


Doki Doki! A Pink Sugar Love Story!

by LittleMissFirebright



Category: Bleach
Genre: Action, Battle, Dating, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 03:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16987449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissFirebright/pseuds/LittleMissFirebright
Summary: Yachiru Kusajishi is all grown up, and ready for love! Of course, there's one problem. To win the right to date the super cute Yachiru, all potential suitors must first attempt to defeat the Captain of Squad Eleven, Kenpachi Zaraki! Will Yachiru find a date to the Millennium Ball? And are there any men capable of facing Kenpachi without breaking into tears? *Everyone lives AU!*





	1. Princess of the Combat Squad

**~Cross posted from Fanfic.net~**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach, or any other franchises named after cleaning supplies.**

**~o~**

Yachiru Kusajishi skipped through the gates of the Soul Society with a cheery hum on her lips and a bloodied sword held carelessly in one hand. Her bruised and battered squad members limped after her, groaning with relief when they finally made it home, collapsing just inside the gates.

“My goodness!”

The exclamation came from a soft voiced woman in a captain’s haori who wore her long, dark hair braided in front of her body. Her gentle blue eyes widened as she took in the injuries before her. “I was under the impression your squad was on a simple reconnaissance mission, Lieutenant Kusajishi,” Captain Retsu Unohana scolded, a hint of reproof in her normally mild tone. “Hanatarō, see to their injuries at once.”

“Y-yes, ma’am, _captain,_ right away!” the timid young man at her side sputtered, accidentally dropping the box of paperwork he’d been holding as he saluted. The newest Third Seat of Squad Four, Hanatarō Yamada, may have had the confidence and bravado of the average stuffed teddy bear, but no one could say he didn’t take his job seriously. “Third and Fourth Relief Teams, begin dividing the injured by the severity of their wounds!” he ordered, directing the nearest members of his squad into action. He unhooked a pouch of medical supplies from his sash, and rested one hand on his zanpakutō for reassurance.

But when he reached Yachiru, a flush bloomed on his pale cheeks. He swept back his drab chin length hair nervously, looking up at the adorable Lieutenant of Squad Eleven. “May I tend to your injuries, Yachiru-san? I also have salves and medicines to restore stamina if you’re tired…”

Yachiru beamed, her smile so dazzling poor Hanatarō was reduced to staring numbly. “No thanks!” she gushed, her voice as sweet as sugar, practically glowing with energy. “I didn’t get injured at all! That Hollow ambush was a great warmup for training today!”

One of her squad members was sobbing silently, despite being a grown man. Another shook convulsively, staring sightlessly at nothing. “There were so many…everywhere I looked, white masks…why were there so many?” Another injured woman laughed hysterically, rocking back and forth.

Yachiru hummed as she walked, making her way straight towards the nearby sparring grounds, where Kenpachi was watching a pair of Soul Reapers test their skills. She called out his name, her voice full of affection.

Several Soul Reapers watched her go, not even bothering to hide their stares. “Hey, is it just me…or has Lieutenant Kusajishi gotten a lot cuter lately?” the Lieutenant of Squad Three, Izuru Kira noted out loud, sounding surprised. “Not in a creepy way or anything, I just mean…she’s really grown up in the last fifty years.”

It was hard _not_ to notice Yachiru Kusajishi. The long bangs of her candy pink hair framed her heart shaped face with soft pastel color, accenting the lively flush of color on her cheeks and the perfect rosy shade of her cupids bow lips, which always carried a warm smile for her fellow Soul Reapers. She had grown tall and lithe as the years went on, filling out with just enough soft curves to catch lingering stares from the men of the Soul Society. The princess of the combat squad seemed to grow more beautiful with every horrific battle she won, a delicate pink flower that thrived on freshly spilled blood.

“I think you meant to say she’s a _fine_ woman,” his younger squad mate said with a whistle, admiring what her lilting skip did to her figure from behind. “She might not be as well developed as Rangiku, but she still makes the top ten list for the hottest women in the Soul Society. And how does she _always_ smell like cupcakes?”

“I just mean, it seems like yesterday that she was riding around on Kenpachi’s shoulder,” Izuru stammered hastily, catching himself self-consciously. “She’s become quite the extraordinary young woman.”

“And she’s so strong, she even beat Renji the other day in training!” an energetic young man named Rikichi gushed with awe and longing. “A girl like that is once in a lifetime! I’d love to ask her out on a date!”

As if he sensed them talking, Kenpachi Zaraki turned to stare at the group with merciless eyes, a cold surge of killing intent washing over them like an icy wave.

As one, the men went rigid with fear, flinching as if they’d seen death itself staring down at them. Rikichi spoke first, his tone hushed with fear. “B-but then again, maybe I’d rather _live_ ,” he whispered, giving the cute girl one last longing look, knowing he’d see Kenpachi’s icy glare in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

~o~

Kenpachi Zaraki cracked open his eyes, his bleary vision clearing gradually until Yachiru’s pouting face came into focus. Motes of dust swirled through the light filtering through the windows. The dojo was empty, save for his pink haired lieutenant. “Kenny, we need to talk,” Yachiru said reproachfully, putting her hands on her hips.

Kenpachi grumbled incoherently as he hauled himself to a sitting position, his thoughts muzzy and annoyed. “What happened to today’s sparring matches? Don’t tell me those spineless dogs decided not to show up,” the fearsome man complained, glaring balefully at the empty room as if the men who had annoyed him would be revealed hiding among the shafts of sunlight.

“No!” Yachiru huffed. “Sparring was earlier today, but you were so bored by the matches you fell asleep! That isn’t what I came to talk to you about!”

Kenpachi thought about it, and _did_ vaguely remember the disappointing fights of his squad members. “Oh,” he grumbled, cracking his neck and flexing to work out the kinks in his muscles. “What did you wake me up for, then?”

Yachiru took a deep breath, meeting Kenpachi’s gaze with her own determined ferocity, with the air of a woman who has made up her mind. “I want to go on a date,” the cute girl announced firmly.

“Is that all?” Kenpachi snorted, surprising her with his nonchalance. “Good. I haven’t decapitated anyone in ages. So why don’t you go fetch the slack jawed weakling who decided he was worthy of you…and I’ll find out if his jugular vein can block my sword.”

“ _No!_ ” Yachiru shouted, stamping her foot childishly. “Kenny, you _always_ scare away the guys who are interested in me! At this rate, I’m going to end up the only girl in the Soul Society who has never been on a single date!”

“What about that Tenzo kid? He took you to a dinner date. I distinctly remember it.”

“Kenny, you remember it because you made me bring you along,” Yachiru said, narrowing her dark magenta eyes. “It doesn’t count as a date if you’re sitting right next to me! And Ten-chan ended up too scared to say a single word, and even wet himself when you reached for the salt! He didn’t just stop talking to me after that, he transferred all the way to the borderlands!”

Kenpachi smiled widely at the reminder, seeming pleased with himself. “There you have it. A date. It was good talking with you, Yachiru.”

The cute girl sighed with defeat, closing her eyes briefly. “It isn’t like I want to choose someone you don’t like. Your approval means _everything_ to me, Kenny! But you aren’t even giving guys a chance! I really want to try having a boyfriend or even falling in love-” Kenpachi snorted loudly, interrupting her. “ _But_ , I need to be able to get to know a boy before I’ll know if I really like him!”

“What brought all this on?” Kenpachi asked irritably, staring at his tiny lieutenant balefully. She may have grown up, but compared to him she was still a little midget as always. “Is there someone you’re actually interested in?”

“Not yet,” Yachiru admitted, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “But there are a few potential boyfriends in the squads. I really want a date to the Millennium Ball next month, so I was thinking of choosing someone. Isn’t there anything I can do to convince you?”

Kenpachi glared at his lieutenant’s admittedly cute puppy dog eyes, which she currently had turned up to maximum adorableness. “Fine!” the fearsome captain said grouchily, and Yachiru’s expression lit up like the sun. “But I won’t accept some weakling as your date! If anyone wants to date you, they have to go through me first, in a one on one showdown!”

“Kenny, that’s great!” Yachiru sang, hugging him tightly, as if it weren’t a goal so horrifying it was nearly impossible. “ _Thank you_! I’ll start preparing right away! You’re the best!”

~o~

Yachiru hummed happily as she hung posters throughout the Soul Society, already wondering what kind of man her boyfriend would be. He needed to be strong, she decided, nodding her head firmly. And willing to participate in her elaborate pranks on Byakuya Kuchiki! “But what should he look like?” she wondered out loud, touching a finger to her lips. Looks were something she hadn’t really considered.

Her squad mate, Yumichika Ayasegawa, chose that moment to walk by. He was widely considered one of the most attractive men in the Soul Society, with stunning good looks which rivalled most of the women as well. His glossy black hairdo was always perfectly styled, sporting occasional braided accents and brightly plumed feathers to further emphaticize his fashionable taste. His eyebrows were plucked thin into perfect arches, his mysterious violet eyes always held an air of intrigue, and his naturally long eyelashes were often adorned with golden feathers on the fringes. His clothing as well was styled carefully, with customized royal orange additions to the standard Soul Reaper garb.

Yachiru’s mouth fell open, and she pointed at Yumichika as if she’d just realized an eternal truth of the universe she’d never noticed before. “I’ve got it!” she exclaimed, her magenta eyes wide with shocked realization. “I’ll date anyone as long as they don’t look like you!”

“ _Hey_!” Yumichika complained loudly, his feminine violet eyes twitching with fury. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean? You _dare_ insult _my_ looks? I’ll have you know I’m considered _very_ attractive by everyone in Squad Eleven!”

“That’s exactly what I meant!” Yachiru laughed, beaming at the fabulous man. “Most of the members of Squad Eleven are men, and you look like a girl! As long as I don’t date some girly boy who constantly worries about his looks, I’ll be just fine, even if he’s a Hollow! Thanks for the help, Yumi-chan!”

Yachiru skipped away with her pile of posters, evidently no longer worried by such trivial details as appearance or personality in her future date, leaving the fuming Yumichika behind her.

“What was all that about?” Ikkaku Madarame asked with curiosity, the sunlight glinting off his bald head dramatically. The bare muscles in his forearms glistened with sweat from his sparring session. He held the three sectioned staff of his zanpakutō carelessly over one shoulder. “Yachiru can’t be talking about dating again. Didn’t Captain Zaraki break the legs of the last guy who complimented her figure?”

“Hell if I know,” Yumichika fumed, his fists clenched tight. “What guy would fall for such a demonic little monster anyways? I simply don’t see the appeal!”

Ikkaku laughed out loud, slapping his friend on the back good naturedly, and with such force he nearly fell over. “Guys don’t care that she’s a terrifying force of evil, as long as she looks like a cutesy shoulder angel. You’re just mad because our little lieutenant grew up cuter than you!”

“That’s _not_ true, I don’t think like that at all!” Yumichika snapped. “And also, take that back since I am far cuter than she is!”

“Let’s see what trouble the lieutenant is up to this time.” Ikkaku leaned down, picking up one of the posters which had fallen to the stones. The muscular man blinked once, his expression quickly changing to horror. “W-we’ve got a problem! Have you _seen_ these, Yumichika?”

“It can’t be that bad,” Yumichika scoffed, snatching the paper away from him. He read out loud, his voice shifting slowly to incredulity. “The opportunity of a lifetime. Win the right to be Yachiru Kusajishi’s one and only _boyfriend_ in battle! All interested men gather at the Squad Eleven barracks on Saturday at noon for a grand battle of love, against none other than Kenpachi Zaraki, _Captain of Squad Eleven_? She can’t be serious!” Yumichika exclaimed. “No one will show up for this, will they?”

“You’re forgetting that men do some truly stupid things for love,” Ikkaku said grimly. “Which means we might have a bloodbath on our hands, and the captain is the only one allowed to participate!”

“Is _that_ all you’re worried about?” Yumichika complained, smacking the other man upside the head. “He might kill half the men in the Soul Society, and _then_ where would the average men be to contrast _my_ beauty? This is more than we can handle alone. We need to get help right away!”

~o~

News spread quickly. And despite the hundreds of posters littering the walls, Yachiru’s personal requests, and the truly ridiculous number of men interested in dating her, not a single one of them dared to face Kenpachi in open battle. She was certainly cute, just not cute enough to die screaming for.

Yachiru groaned with frustration, sitting heavily in the chair across from the Captain of Squad Ten. “This is so _frustrating_!” she complained, starting the conversation completely out of the blue. “Are all the guys in the Soul Society cowards? It’s ridiculous!”

Captain Tōshirō Hitsugaya sighed, setting aside his paperwork. He was used to interruptions and personal drama, thanks to his decades of service with Rangiku. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, so I can get back to work?” the cool headed captain said tolerantly, giving the bubbly lieutenant his full attention.

Yachiru wasn’t the only one who had grown up. Tōshirō Hitsugaya stood eye to eye with the other captains, a tall and powerful man who had fully grown into his icy abilities. His tousled white hair and cool green eyes were enough to bring a blush to any woman’s cheeks, and now that he had the build and sharp jawline of a Greek god, there were few who could resist his charm. This appeal annoyed the wintery captain, who found the constant attention troublesome. He wore the simple white haori of a captain, with only a long teal scarf for adornment, and his zanpakutō, Hyōrinmaru, always close at hand.

“Well,” Yachiru said, deciding she might as well complain to him, though she’d only shown up in annoyance after being unable to find anyone else to vent to, “I really want to bring a date to the Millennium Ball, but I can’t find anyone who can pass the skill requirement for battle! It’s so bad no one even wants to try…I don’t know what else to do!”

“Oh,” Tōshirō said, sounding surprised. “Is that all? Why don’t I go with you? Captains are required to attend the event anyhow, and I don’t have prior plans.”

Yachiru bolted up in an instant, bracing her hands on Tōshirō’s desk with huge eyes. “You’d really do that?” she demanded, her sudden proximity surprising the normally cool captain. “ _Really?_ ”

“Well, yes,” Tōshirō said, blinking with surprise. “It works out for me as well, since I won’t have to listen to Rangiku’s complaints. I would love to accompany you.”

Yachiru laughed out loud, whirling in a circle of victory in the cold room. “That’s great!” she sang, smiling at him with sincere fondness. She held up a finger warningly. “You just need to do one thing first! Defeat Kenny in a one on one battle, this Saturday! It’s the only way he’ll let me go!”

Tōshirō stared, his pale features going impossibly paler. “You want me to fight Kenpachi?” he repeated incredulously. “Over the right to date you…which is one of the few things he truly cares about?”

Yachiru nodded happily, clasping her hands behind her back, but Tōshirō stood abruptly, grabbing a pile of papers. “I’m terribly sorry, but I just remembered I have more paperwork to do. Best of luck, Lieutenant Kusajishi!”

He left the room in a hurry, leaving her alone.

It looked hopeless. Yachiru sighed, walking down the streets later that day. Captain Unohana watched her dejected pace, a thoughtful expression on her face. She already been approached by the girl’s worried squad mates about the situation at hand, and seen for herself the impossibility of Kenpachi’s demands.

“I do believe our young lieutenant might require assistance,” the elegant captain murmured, a slight smile on her lips. “Isane,” she said, addressing her own lieutenant. “I need some help spreading a rumor.”

~o~

 


	2. Heartpounding First Dates!

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach, and I would be too terrified to own Kenpachi Zaraki anyways.**

**~o~**

The next Saturday, the courtyard in front of Squad Eleven’s barracks was filled with people. Men chattered animatedly with each other, some there to compete for Yachiru’s heart, and many others to observe the drama. Captain Unohana’s rumors had spread like wildfire, guaranteeing a crowd.

“I heard Yachiru set this up as a test, to see who would be brave enough to show up!” Rikichi announced, clenching his fist with anticipation, his dark eyes shining under his mess of spiked ashen hair. “She doesn’t need some coward as her boyfriend after all, but we don’t actually need to fight Kenpachi! Ah, I’m so excited! What a great opportunity!”

“Please,” another man scoffed, a researcher known by the name Rin Tsubokura. His shoulder length chestnut hair was tied at the top with a small ponytail. “As if it would be that easy! I heard we _are_ going to have to fight Kenpachi, but Yachiru doesn’t expect us to win. We just need to put on the best show out of all the men here to earn a date with her! And Captain Unohana volunteered to treat all injuries for free! Look, she’s right over there, so that proves it!”

“We’re going to have to fight each other, not Kenpachi. As a seated officer of Squad Four, I believe I have the advantage,” the skilled and extremely handsome medic, Harunobu Ogidō, said with a satisfied smirk. He was extremely popular with the ladies, thanks to his effortless attractiveness, tousled brown hair, and warm chocolate eyes.

Yachiru skipped happily through the crowd, oblivious to the rumors and whispers, taking her place by Kenpachi Zaraki’s side. The captain’s deep set eyes shone with bloodthirsty anticipation, a savage grin on his features. “With this many challengers, at least one is sure to be a decent fight. Yachiru! We should have done this ages ago!”

“Uh- _huh_!” Yachiru agreed, her voice sugary sweet. “I’m really glad my posters finally worked! Let’s get things started, okay?” She skipped up to the front of the crowd, leaping up to stand perched on Ikkaku Madarame’s shoulders. Ignoring his protests and wiggling, the pink haired girl addressed the crowd. “Welcome to Squad Eleven’s one and only ‘Battle for Love’ event! The winner will get to be my date to the Millennium Ball, and the losers…will probably end up in the hospital, haha! I want to see some great battles today, so let’s get started!”

“But first, one thing,” Captain Retsu Unohana cut in smoothly, walking fluidly to the front of the crowd. “As the skill difference is so great between Captain Zaraki and the average Soul Reaper, Head Captain Yamamoto has directed that certain restrictions must be in place to minimize casualties. As such, Captain Zaraki will be handicapped according to the skill level of each challenger. Seated officers will have minimal handicaps based on their number, while unseated officers will have the greatest advantage. The members of Squad Four will be standing by to treat any injuries or severe mental trauma caused by terror. That is all.” She bowed slightly as her speech concluded, and murmurs broke out among the crowd.

“So we _will_ have to face Kenpachi? Just how severe are these restrictions?”

“No thanks, I’m _out_!” a panicked Soul Reaper declared, making his way for the exit. Several others joined him, mumbling, but most stayed.

“Now hold on just a minute,” Kenpachi complained, resting his zanpakutō over his shoulder. “Restrictions? I never heard anything like that!”

Yachiru blinked, cocking her head to the side adorably. “Well of _course_ , Kenny!” she scolded him, sounding surprised. She’d never even considered the alternative, thinking it was a given. “I would never expect anyone to beat you in a straight fight! But you’re so great you could probably beat most of these guys with both hands tied behind your back and blindfolded! Just think of it as a new challenge!”

Kenpachi thought about it with a deep scowl, and finally nodded his acceptance. “Fine. But whatever additional restrictions you’ve thought up for me, _double them_! I want a real challenge, even if I have to fight using a butter knife held in my teeth! Let’s see if any of you weaklings can inflict even a single wound on my body!” He laughed, the sound so uninhibited and bloodthirsty that several other men turned around and walked away, to rethink their careers as Soul Reapers and consider starting a nice bakery instead.

“Now then, if all participants will please form a single file line,” Captain Unohana said with a gentle smile, holding her arm out to the side, where men began to line up cautiously…though no one seemed to want to be first. “Hanatarō, would you restrain Captain Zaraki?”

The drab looking young man visibly gulped, sweat beading on his wide forehead. “O-of course. If you w-wouldn’t mind, C-c-c-c-”

“Just get on with it, you worthless pile of human garbage,” Kenpachi said, his deep voice thick with derision and disgust.

Hanatarō swallowed, looking as though he might faint, but set about binding Kenpachi’s arms with thick spiritual pressure consuming chains, his hands shaking.

“Lieutenant Kusajishi, a word?” Captain Unohana said, beckoning the beautiful pink haired girl over. Yachiru bounded to her side, looking up at the slightly taller woman. Captain Unohana beckoned her closer still, so no one could hear their huddled conversation. “I can’t help but wonder, is there anyone in particular you’re favoring during this contest? If so, I’m sure the _two_ of us can convince Kenpachi to allow your relationship, even without this fight.”

“Nope!” Yachiru said cheerfully. “This fight is actually like a first date!”

Unohana blinked, clearly taken aback. “A first date?” she repeated, wondering if she’d heard the younger woman correctly. Just what had Kenpachi raised her to think a ‘date’ was?

“That’s right!” Yachiru confirmed. “Because Kenny always says you don’t know who a man truly is until you’ve seen how he acts in the face of death! First dates are all about getting to know people, so you can see who they really are. So by watching these fights I’ll learn a lot about each one of these guys, and I’ll find out who I really like! Not to mention I’ll find out which ones are complete and utter pansies,” she finished, as an afterthought.

“I see,” Unohana said, a bit surprised by how much sense her evaluation made. “Well, I’m certainly glad you’ve thought this through.”

Meanwhile, Kenpachi was shouting at poor Hanatarō again. “No, you idiot, make the chains _tighter_! I can still feel my arms and legs! And add another layer! And put _two_ eyepatches on, one for each eye!”

The sight of Kenpachi being trussed up in so many powerful chains was giving hope to some of the young men there to win Yachiru’s heart. After all, if he couldn’t even lift a sword, surely they could defeat him in battle? All they had to do was cut him enough that they won! Even _they_ could handle something like that. “Alright,” Rikichi said, clenching his fist while wild hope burned in his eyes. “I’m up first!”

The young member of Squad Six closed his eyes as he took his place across the now cleared courtyard, remembering why he’d become a Soul Reaper in the first place. _Renji_ , he thought to himself, a mental image of his red-haired hero flickering through his mind. _I swore that one day I would become stronger. Strong enough to stand by your side in battle_. “And so,” he said out loud, clenching the hilt of his zanpakutō tight with both hands, “I won’t lose here!”

Unohana called the start of the match, and Rikichi sprinted forward with a war cry, the tip of his sword striking sparks against the cobblestones. “Slice through the eternal flames,” the dark haired young man shouted, his eyes shining with blue power as he focused his spiritual pressure into his sword. His zanpakutō, usually shaped like a black katana with a bowed, rectangular guard, began to glow with power. “ _Onikuchiku!_ ” The metal screeched as the blade transformed, curving into a large demonic scythe with a molten, fiery blade, which trailed dark shadows in its wake with every swing. Rikichi whirled the scythe above his head, leaping into the air for a powerful, two handed strike against the Captain of Squad Eleven, who despite not being able to see at all, was grinning like a madman.

The tip of Onikuchiku’s wicked, molten blade struck Kenpachi directly in the heart, an explosion of spiritual pressure blowing a shock wave across the battlefield. Rikichi’s triumphant expression at the clean hit didn’t last long. The edges of his captain’s haori smoked and smoldered, but as the area burned away, it could clearly be seen that Kenpachi Zaraki’s skin hadn’t been cut in the slightest.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Kenpachi demanded, his wild grin never fading. “Come on. _Hit me like you mean it_! Surely you can do _better than that_?!” As his voice rose into a demented howl, enough of his spiritual pressure escaped the ridiculous number of chains and inhibitors to blow Rikichi’s hair back against his skull.

“My strength doesn’t end here!” Rikichi retorted, with a quick glance at Yachiru’s expectant, and adorable, face. “You haven’t seen the true depth of my power! Onikuchiku, let’s go!” He whirled the black handle of his scythe, slashing and hacking at the captain’s chest, leaving huge smoldering cuts in the fabric of his coat, but never cutting through his skin.

Rikichi concentrated, strengthening each blow with all the power of his resolve, remembering his friends. With a cry, he swung his demonic scythe with all his strength, aiming for Kenpachi’s head-

The red-hot blade with molten edges stopped short, caught between Kenpachi Zaraki’s teeth. He crunched down, shattering the scythe like it was made of glass, laughing while chunks of the blade clattered to the ground and bits of lava dripped off his chin.

“Onikuchiku!” Rikichi gasped, only to be knocked out by Kenpachi’s forehead as the captain took advantage of his moment of distraction. He crumpled to the ground.

The Captain of Squad Eleven stood over the body of his opponent, the slashed edges of his haori burning, thick chains binding his arms behind his back and wrapping his legs, and literal molten lava hissing on the stones as it dripped off his skin. “Who wants to go next?” the captain roared, and his audience flinched as one.

For a long moment, no one moved, staring with horror at the defeated Rikichi. Yachiru’s voice broke through the silence. “Way to go, Riki-chan” she cheered, sitting on Ikkaku’s shoulders while he sat cross legged with an irritable expression. “That was _super_ cool!”

“I-I’m going next!” Rin the researcher insisted, stepping forward.

“No, _me_!”

“Yachiru! I dedicate this battle to our love!” a third Soul Reaper declared, clamoring for her attention.

And so the brutal matches continued.

Rin Tsubokura stepped onto the field, daring to hope that maybe the win would be his. After all, he and Yachiru had so much in common! He loved sweets and cakes even more than she did. _Yachiru_ , he promised himself, looking at the beautiful idol of the combat squad, _if I win this match, I’ll finally confess my love, and give you the cupcake recipe I’ve been perfecting all these years-_

His internal monologue broke off as he looked at Kenpachi Zaraki’s manic grin, and felt his spirit being crushed by the captain’s immense spiritual pressure, even limited to one thousandth of what it usually was, and passed out immediately, drooling on the pavement.

“Then I guess it’s up to me,” the handsome Eighth Seat of Squad Four, Harunobu Ogida said, taking a warriors stance as Rin was carried off the field on a stretcher.

“Since you are a seated officer, Kenpachi will be granted the use of one finger,” Captain Unohana announced brightly, her countenance serene. “Hanatarō, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Right!” Hanatarō replied determinedly, undoing the thick chain binding Kenpachi’s left arm to his back, and from there, releasing his pointer finger from the chain mail mitts. “One finger released, captain!”

Harunobu didn’t waste any time. “Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south!” the healer chanted out loud, gripping his wrist with his right palm outstretched towards the bound Kenpachi. “Hadō, number thirty one!” Crimson fire bloomed in a concentrated sphere in front of his palm as he spoke, whirling as condensed spiritual power fed the blaze. Harunobu’s shout roared over the crowd. “ _Shakkahō_!”

The malevolent orb of power screamed from Harunobu’s outstretched palm like a meteor, trailing crimson sparks. The light threw Kenpachi’s shadow into startling relief, casting a monstrous silhouette on the building behind him, as the demonic man himself waiting in anticipation for the blow.

The fiery meteor exploded against Kenpachi’s chest, and his feet skidded back three inches. Kenpachi spoke as the smoke cleared, his voice thick with growing annoyance. “Is that all a seated officer can manage?” the muscular giant complained, cracking his neck as he walked out of the cloud of acrid smoke unharmed. “Why’d you bother spending so much time learning Kidō when it’s all _so WEAK?”_ He emphasized his last words by breaking into a powerful sprint, shattering the chains on his legs with ease, headed directly for Harunobu.

The seated officer screamed like a little girl, raising his palm on reflex. “Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south!” he chanted, so quickly the words were practically one breath, “Shakkahō!” Another sphere of lurid spiritual power struck Kenpachi, barely even slowing him down. “ _Shakkahō_!” Harunobu shouted, his eyes wild with terror. “Shakkahō! _Shakkahō_!” The meteoric bursts exploded against Kenpachi’s chest in quick succession, and he just laughed, the sound so terrible it would have given the devil himself horrible nightmares.

Kenpachi broke through the final cloud of scarlet lightning and smoke just as Harunobu reached for his sword with convulsing hands, and flicked him in the chest with his one free finger. His ribcage cracked, and blood spewed from his open mouth as he skidded across the pavement, weeping with terror.

Medical teams rushed to the fallen soldier’s side, lifting him off the battlefield quickly, as more Soul Reapers stepped forward to battle, swallowing their fear, as Kenpachi’s legs and finger were bound again.

Unfortunately for these other brave warriors, Yachiru Kusajishi was no longer watching.

“Hey!” the pink haired girl said, leaning down to better see what Hanatarō was doing. “Aren’t you gonna fight? If you wait long enough, Kenny might be worn down! You could last maybe one entire minute, then!”

Hanatarō blushed, looking away from the gorgeous lieutenant, working on healing Harunobu’s ribcage. Warm green light spilled from his fingertips as he concentrated, and the injured warrior’s gasping became less pronounced. “Oh _no_ , not me,” he said honestly, cringing at the very thought. “I could never fight Kenpachi. I know my place in the world, and it _isn’t_ on the battlefield. I’ll leave all the brutal fighting to you Squad Eleven members, and patch up your wounds when all is said and done.”

Yachiru pouted at him childishly. “That isn’t very brave of you,” she scolded him, her interest dying off quickly. “I’ve never seen you fight once! You must be a total pansy; a real loser!”

Hanatarō flinched at her brutal assessment, thoroughly chastised. “I-is that all you want in a man?” he asked honestly, looking up at her with doleful ocean blue eyes, and blushed harder when he looked at her fairy-like features. “I mean, is battle strength everything?” he added on hurriedly. “Don’t you want a guy who will love you for who you are, instead of some eternal sparring partner?”

“Nope!” Yachiru said brightly with no hesitation whatsoever, and Hanatarō winced, muttering ‘of course not’ under his breath.

She skipped off to watch the rest of the battles, only to stare at the field. Piles of Soul Reapers dotted the courtyard, defeated in such quick succession the medical teams hadn’t been able to clear their bodies. “Kenny, you defeated them _too quickly_!” Yachiru complained, crossing her arms beneath her chest with aggravation. “I didn’t even see you beat up the last twenty of them!”

“You weren’t missing anything,” Kenpachi declared, taking off his second eyepatch as he surveyed the piles of defeated opponents. No one else dared stand against him, and his annoyance was obvious. A thought occurred to him, and Kenpachi laughed out of the blue. “Well, that’s that. Don’t worry, Yachiru, maybe you can go to the next Millennium Ball. In a thousand years.”

“Don’t think I’m going to give up so easily!” Yachiru declared, narrowing her magenta eyes. “I’m going to that dance, no matter what, even if I have to ask one of the Arrancar!”

She disappeared with a flash step, leaving her stunned squad mates behind.

“She didn’t mean that, right, Ikkaku?” Yumichika checked, his cheek twitching. “Even the lieutenant wouldn’t go _that_ far.”

“No _sane_ person would go that far,” Ikkaku agreed, staring after her. “Which means that we might have a problem on our hands after all!”

~o~

**Authors note: While all the character in this fanfiction are canon, some are so minor we never saw their Shikai. I made up a generic zanpakutō for one of these characters.**

**Rikichi’s zanpakutō is named ‘Onikuchiku’, taken from ‘Oni’, or demon, and ‘kuchiku, taken from the Japanese word ‘Kuchiku-kan’, meaning destroyer. Roughly translates to ‘destroyer of demons’, thus the generic scythe motif and the catch phrase ‘slice through the eternal flames’. Cheesy, yes, and did I put a lot of effort into it, no. But does anyone really care about Rikichi? C’mon.**


	3. Hollow Aspirations

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach, and have zero takeover plans. None. You can trust me. :)**

~o~

The princess of the combat squad killed over a thousand Hollows in the next week. Most of them were low level grunts, barely worth the effort it took to swing her keen edged sword. Barely a moment went by where her silver blade didn’t drip with the thick green blood of Hollows.

None were strong enough to challenge her, and therefore, none could challenge her treasured captain, even without his arms or legs. And, Yachiru had to admit, most of them weren’t intelligent enough to make good company, even if they _weren’t_ trying to bite her face off. She wanted strength, but there was a _small_ requirement for speech capabilities and manners for her future date. Mindless roaring could really only bring a conversation so far.

In her travels, she found six who were strong enough to speak, but cut them down when they proved too violent and weak for her tastes. There was _nothing_ worse than violent beings who couldn’t actually fight with any amount of skill. Bullies were the lowest form of scum, worse even than weak humans who wouldn’t fight at all!

Four were Arrancar, left over from Aizen’s rebellion, and all of them fell to her blade. They were so weak she didn’t even bother asking them if they’d consider a date.

Nineteen were Menos Grande. She fought them for the better part of an afternoon, and concluded that while they were brutally strong, being tall enough to tower over buildings was a deal breaker for dancing.

No, what she needed was the exceptional – a being strong enough to pass Kenpachi’s test, smart enough to speak, and at least mostly human in appearance. Her own resources exhausted, Yachiru decided it was high time she found a new source of top secret information.

“Hey, Rin-chan,” the pink haired girl greeted, leaning against the young researcher’s desk. She smiled flirtatiously. “What are you working on?”

“Yachiru!” Rin exclaimed his brown eyes widening with shock. Faint bruising shadowed the skin beneath his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept properly in days. He adjusted his white lab coat self-consciously, blinking to get his bearings. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m upset, I just didn’t think I’d see you after…well, you know,” he finished, his voice a defeated mumble, remembering his disastrous match against Kenpachi.

Yachiru laughed warmly, keeping the mood light as she sat in the chair next to him. “I came to see you, silly! I’ve been really interested in Hollows lately. And I was wondering, are there any really strong ones in the Soul Society right now?”

Rin looked down, kneading his fingers together nervously. “I’m not really supposed to talk about that,” he confessed, embarrassed. “It’s top secret after all…”

“It will be fine!” Yachiru promised, leaning in closer. She looked up at him with her warm, rose hued eyes. “I mean,” she said, as her vanilla scent welcomed him in, sending a stab of confusion through his poor mind, “I _am_ a lieutenant. So telling me top secret intel is okay, right? I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble.”

Rin blinked, dazed. “Yeah,” he agreed faintly, looking at her with open astonishment. “Yeah, of course! I’m sure we’ve got something that will interest you!”

He turned back to his screen, his fingers tapping quickly over his keyboard. “Like this one!” he said animatedly, and the large screen flickered to an image of a horrible partially human monstrosity with three jointed arms, dripping crimson ooze in place of eyes, and an endlessly long, pointed black tongue riddled with holes. “He’s the Arrancar known as _Toxinosity._ He secretes mist-like poison which can kill a Soul Reaper with a single breath, and a touch from his tongue paralyzes enemies instantly. Not to mention those bladed forearms are heavily armored, and his regeneration is almost instantaneous – he has very few weaknesses, and no one has managed to bring him down yet.” 

Yachiru rested her chin on her hands, unimpressed. “But couldn’t I just hold my breath until I beat him? He doesn’t seem all that great to me,” she sighed.

“Well, yeah…” Rin said, thinking hard. “Alright, what about this one?”

A few expert taps on his keyboard summoned a new image. “Her name is Selva Pantera.” A somewhat blurred image of a black armored woman with nightmarish jaws stretching from ear to ear appeared on the screen. Spiked blades curved upwards from the back of her reverse jointed legs, and a Soul Reaper’s petrified head was held in one clawed hand. Hundreds of snarling panthers made of roiling black flames stood at her feet. She looked mostly human, with lanky dark hair hanging over her surprisingly calm eyes shaded a fiery crimson. Jagged horns of black obsidian curled around her head in a tiara before stabbing towards the empty skies of Hueco Mundo.

“She fights alongside an army of demonic panthers,” Rin explained excitedly, pointing out the fanged creatures. “Their bites turn muscle and skin into stone, and rumor has it the panthers themselves are immune to most physical attacks. They’re made of flames, so swords just pass through their bodies! But her true specialty is in her hand to hand combat abilities. Any direct contact turns enemies into stone around the site of the blow, like the panthers. We only have the one image of her…and we only know she’s still alive because of the dozens of statues of soul reapers she leaves behind!”

“No good,” Yachiru sighed dejectedly. “It just can’t be a woman! Ahhh, her power was so promising too!”

“Well,” Rin said, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. “If Arrancar won’t cut it, there _is_ one more type of Hollow. I’m…I’m _really_ not supposed to tell people about this, but you _are_ , well, _you_ , so…”

Yachiru’s eyes widened as they reflected the horned figure on the screen, a true chill of fear racing down her spine. Her lips quirked into a disbelieving smile. The adrenaline spike was the same, or almost the same, as the one she felt every time she looked at Kenpachi Zaraki in true battle.

“The Vasto Lorde,” Rin said, his voice reverent with wary fear. “The strongest of all Hollows. This image was pulled from the mind of a Soul Reaper driven insane by a mere glance at his enemy. He died shortly afterwards. It’s the only clear image in existence.”

Yachiru barely noticed the other images on the screen. The Vasto Lorde’s eyes were burning pits of whirling blue, which seemed to devour her very soul. She stared at them the longest, before she realized the grainy background was not the deserts of Hueco Mundo.

It was a sea of dead Hollows, lying broken around his clawed feet.

Rin rolled his chair down the long computer desk, pressing buttons and switching a small lever. Several other images pulled up around the picture of the horned man, showing odd blurs and flashes of humanoid limbs. “We don’t know much,” Rin admitted, adding a few small clips of insanely fast beings flashing across the screen, despite being slowed as much as the video allowed, “except that the Vasto Lorde appear more human than any other Hollow. They aren’t Arrancar – they’re much stronger as a general rule. And Head Captain Yamamoto has decreed that we _never_ seek out a Vasto Lorde. They’re too useful, see.”

“Useful?” Yachiru repeated, finally breaking free enough to look at Rin. “How so?”

Rin smiled, staring at the photo as if he’d looked at it thousands of times before. “Because they eat Hollows by the thousands. If it weren’t for the Vasto Lorde, our division estimates the Soul Society would be annihilated by sheer numbers of Hollows within a single decade. Each one is as strong as a captain…maybe more so. In short, they do our job for us, adding the power of countless Hollow souls to their own, which can be cleansed all at once when the Vasto Lorde dies at the hands of a Soul Reaper. They keep to themselves, and rarely cause serious trouble. So we monitor them, but nothing else.”

Yachiru stared at the Vasto Lorde once more, her expression inscrutable. “Do you know his name?”

“The officer we extracted this image from was unable to speak,” Rin admitted, shuddering at the memory. “But a single word echoed through his mind in a scream, over and over. _Nochtis_. If our estimates are correct, he alone has eaten over two million Hollows in the past twenty years.”

“Where could I find him?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to do _that_ ,” Rin stammered. “Besides, Nochtis lives deep within Hueco Mundo. No one knows exactly where. But he has four lieutenants, so to speak, supposedly some of the stronger Arrancar left, who might know more. Actually, we’ve located one of them, and it looks like he’s up to something. We were planning to send a team out to investigate…”

Rin broke off, blushing faintly, looking at his clenched hands. “Actually, Yachiru…there’s something I’ve been meaning to…”

“Sorry, but I’ve got to run,” Yachiru confessed, standing up straighter after reading the information on the screen regarding Nochtis’ lieutenant. “But you’ve been a huge help! Thanks a lot, Rin-chan!”

~o~

Captain Retsu Unohana stepped daintily over the puddles of blood and sweat coating the dojo floors. She knelt down at Kenpachi’s side. The fearsome man was lying with his head propped up on one palm, staring at the distant flare of the sunset.

Unohana watched the brilliant golden sunlight bleed into vivid scarlet for a time. “That girl is going to get into trouble,” she observed, her voice mild.

Kenpachi snorted out loud, the first sound he’d made indicating he noticed her presence. “Nothing she can’t handle,” he declared, as the sunlight burned over the craggy planes of his features and his muscled body.

“She’s looking for someone strong enough to challenge you,” Unohana reminded him, smiling faintly as she looked into the sky. “What if she succeeds? Would you want something as strong as you turning on your lieutenant?”

Kenpachi didn’t reply. Anyone else would have thought he wasn’t listening to her at all.

Unohana sighed.

“I know she’s strong,” the elegant woman said, the weight of a thousand years in her silvery tone. “I’m only warning you not to lose the ones you love. By setting such an impossible condition, you’re putting her in danger. Please consider that there are other reasons to care for someone than fighting strength. Yachiru deserves happiness.”

“I won’t let just any trash date her,” Kenpachi growled, and Unohana didn’t flinch at the sudden horrific violence in his tone. “Yachiru is special! Normal human scum isn’t worthy of her. I won’t accept a weak man to stand at her side!”

Unohana turned back to the sunset. They sat in silence until the last of the light struggled feebly against the skies and failed, plunging the Soul Society deep under the shroud of night. Summer crickets chirped, filling the warm darkness with song.

“I agree,” Unohana said at last, standing to leave, her kimono whirling gracefully around her ankles. “But there are other kinds of strength. Women look for more than muscles and bloodlust when they’re serious about a man. The ability to learn and admit mistakes, and to occasionally compromise, are markers of a worthy partner. Remember to look for strength of spirit as well. It can be more important than mere strength of body, or the abilities of ones zanpakutō.”

The sounds of her wooden sandals padding across the dojo floors were the only indication of her departure. Kenpachi stayed in front of the open sliding door for a long time, staring at the rising moon with an unreadable expression.

“Strength of spirit, huh?” he muttered to himself, as the shadows lengthened.

“Tch.”

~o~

“Alright men, we have our orders. The Arrancar known as Obliquerro has been spotted in the area. We have reports he has been performing a strange ritual. We are _not_ here to fight. Our duty is reconnaissance only. We’ll bring our report back to Captain Suì-Fēng who will lead a force of appropriate strength to defeat this enemy based on our analysis. Does everyone understand?”

Grim Soul Reapers nodded as one, their black masks shrouding their features and only exposing their serious eyes. “Yes, squad leader,” they said as one. The bubbly pink haired girl at the end of the line of ninja beamed happily.

“Yes, squad leader” she gushed, snapping a salute which seemed more innocent than serious, her rosy cheeks flushed with anticipation.

The covert ninja of Squad Two stared uncomfortably at the flowery, giggling young woman in their midst in silence. Their leader, a leanly built man whose features were hidden by his mask, spoke up.

“Lieutenant Kusajishi,” he said with no small amount of awkwardness, “are you _certain_ our captain requested you join us?”

“Yup!” Yachiru lied without hesitation, nodding her head affirmatively. “The Arrancar might be up to something already, in which case I’m supposed to stall his plans until backup can arrive!”

And if possible, she could ask Obliquerro about Nochtis himself, she thought privately. And if the lieutenant was strong enough, and was willing to give up on his evil plans long enough for a date, she could ask _him_ out instead!

The squad leader sighed. “Very well. Let’s move out!”

And anyways, Yachiru thought to herself as she ran ahead of the stealth squad, there was nothing she couldn’t handle!

The reports that Obliquerro was planning to destroy the Soul Society were probably nothing.

How much damage could _one_ Arrancar possibly do, anyways?

~o~

A few hours later, a frantic message came from the last conscious member of the stealth team sent out for reconnaissance. “We need help!” the man gasped, the sound of an explosion booming behind him. “Obliquerro knew we were coming! We never stood a chance…he ripped the spiritual pressure out of the other members of my squad to create a garganta…a _massive_ garganta! Lieutenant Kusajishi is the only one able to fight. The others are in critical condition. She’s holding him off for now, but we need _immediate-_ ”

The man’s voice broke off, as static screeched, and he let out a terrible shout. “ _Lieutenant Kusajishi!_ ”

“ _How annoying_ ,” a sinister voice noted, and the stealth squad member screamed with horror. The message broke off entirely.

“Well, that’s irritating,” Captain Kurotsuchi complained, gnawing his black painted lips. He tapped his overly long fingernails on the keyboard of the research division and sighed.

“Well, I suppose we’d better send someone after them,” the sinister captain grouched, as if saving lives were an obnoxious chore he was required to complete. He brightened visibly, his odd eyes gleaming. “Then again, maybe I’ll get some new Arrancar corpses for dissection. If someone is sent quickly, that is. Nemu! Inform the other captains we have a situation on our hands! And hurry up about it, useless girl!”

~o~

 


	4. Bridge Between Worlds

**Disclaimer: I don’t even own _normal_ Bleach, on account of being too scared to ruin my clothes.**

**~o~**

The shadowy sky was stained with scarlet firelight. Demented howls from inhuman jaws echoed over the blood soaked battlefield, and the medics of Squad Four ran straight towards the site of the devastation, following the trail of broken bodies and gouging scars in the earth.

They had started out travelling in a massive group consisting of nearly the entirety of available Squad Four members, in order to break off into smaller groups who could cart injured back to the medical base further back, which was guarded and presided over by Captain Unohana. Now, as they neared the site of the battle itself, they had less than thirty members remaining.

Three advance groups from Squad Six, and four from Squad One, had already confronted the enemy.

Judging by the injured Soul Reapers they’d seen so far, nearly all of them had been defeated.

Hanatarō Yamada’s reed sandals pushed off the top of a small rise, where another three Soul Reapers lay bleeding and unconscious. “Tokicho,” Hanatarō said, addressing the leader of the Nineteenth Relief Team, “perform emergency treatments on these three, and sweep this valley for further injured with your team. Bring them back to base, and await further orders from Captain Unohana.” The Third Seat of Squad Four hid his shudder at the severity of the injuries. He never got used to blood and death, despite his many years as a medic. “The rest of you, stay with me! We’re nearing the main battle, so stay on your guard!”

This was bad. Hanatarō struggled to regulate his breathing and keep his head clear, knowing he had to set an example.

The Arrancar, Obliquerro, had reportedly opened a massive garganta, connecting the deadly realm of the Hollows directly to the peaceful Soul Society, and unleashed hundreds of the man eating monsters on the helpless country outskirts.

But if the garganta had been opened, Hanatarō wondered fearfully, why weren’t there many _more_ Hollows? Had something happened to stop their advance, or were they gathering in an army to march on the Soul Society as one?

They needed more answers. They needed-

Hanatarō leapt back just in time, as a Hollow the size of a house burst out of the ground, its snapping white jaws tearing a hunk of fabric from the hem of his Shinigami robes. “Hollow!” Hanatarō shouted, gripping his zanpakutō with sweating hands, his tone firm despite the voice in his head screaming like a child. “Squad, use Formation B!”

A chorus of assent echoed behind him. Soul Reapers flash stepped to either side, surrounding the hulking black Hollow marked with vivid blue stripes. The left side of the formation raised their hands, barraging the Hollow’s side with a shower of scarlet Kidō, and the Hollow’s enormous white mask of bone turned, fixing on them with empty eyes, cuing a similar strike from the right side. The Hollow screamed with pain, snapping its jaws towards one side while attacking the _other_ side simultaneously with a sweep of its cudgel shaped tail.

Both sides flash stepped away in sequence, dodging the blows neatly, while a lone Soul Reaper dropped down from the sky, unnoticed due to the diversion of her comrades, her silver blade carving a deep furrow through the Hollow’s white mask. The terrible howls of the Hollow faded away as its body dissolved into dust.

The whole maneuver had taken less than seven seconds. Hanatarō nodded at his comrades in recognition, breathing an inward sigh of relief. They would undoubtedly face worse before the day was through.

“Third Seat, we have another injured man!”

Hanatarō turned, recognizing the Soul Reaper who lay propped up against a tree, struggling to breathe. He was _conscious_ , unlike the others they’d seen so far. “Rikichi,” Hanatarō greeted, signaling his squad to stop their advance. “What is the current situation? Any information you can give will be useful!”

Rikichi looked up at him, his terrified eyes partially hidden by his blood soaked hair. “You can’t win!” he said, sounding panicked, his voice rough. “Don’t go, you can’t-”

He broke off coughing, and Hanatarō smiled at him reassuringly. “Don’t worry about us, we aren’t planning on fighting at all,” Hanatarō assured him. “We are to provide medical assistance, and support any Soul Reapers still able to fight. We only need to help the front lines until the captains arrive – they’ll be on location within fifteen minutes, from the last report.”

Some of the panic faded from Rikichi’s grey eyes. “Good,” he managed, sounding relived. “The captains…and lieutenants…they can handle this, I _know_ they can. Renji will…” He broke off coughing once more, flecks of blood staining his hand.

Hanatarō signaled a few of his comrades to sweep the area for more injured, while he began attending to the more serious of Rikichi’s wounds. Soft amber light coalesced around his hands, spreading a warm glow throughout the injured tissue. “What can you tell us about the current situation?” Hanatarō prompted again, as his patient relaxed.

“The Arrancar, Obliquerro…he’s _strong_. When you look at him, your vision just _goes black_. I-I couldn’t see anything. He almost killed me, but got distracted…I had to run, had to get help…” Rikichi grabbed Hanatarō’s robe with more strength than he thought possible, looking up at him with a fevered glare. “Yachiru is still fighting. She needs your help, or she might…”

Hanatarō’s blue eyes went wide. “Lieutenant Kusajishi is in trouble?” he repeated faintly, his heart thundering in his ears.

Something like shame colored Rikichi’s cheeks. “I had to run!” he insisted, looking at his clenched fists. “I didn’t have a choice! I couldn’t…I would have _died_ …”

“Third Seat Yamada, we have to move,” his next in command reminded him, her pale green eyes grim.

Hanatarō nodded, and stood shakily. “Azumaru, take over healing Rikichi. Squad, let’s move out.”

“The battle is in the valley just beyond the next ridge,” Rikichi mumbled, avoiding their eyes. “When I’m healed…I’ll definitely go back…for Yachiru…I wouldn’t just-”

“I’m sure you will,” Hanatarō said soothingly. “That’s what you hero types are good at, right?” His words seemed to calm the injured young man, and Rikichi slipped his eyes closed, focusing on breathing.

The remaining group of medics disappeared in a flash, sprinting towards the battlefield with renewed determination. Only twenty remained. They could only hope it would be enough to retrieve as many injured Soul Reapers as possible before the arrival of the captains.

The medical squad arrived on the crest of the ridge barely five minutes later, and stopped short, staring with horror at the battlefield below.

Dozens of Hollows littered the ground. Many were still alive, their terrible injuries oozing thick green blood, incapacitated, but not dead, since their masks had yet to be shattered. Among their bodies, the unconscious members of the stealth squad could be seen, the faint rise and fall of their chests the only indication of life.

A crack in reality itself stretched all the way across the horizon, yawning and terrible. But despite the incredible length of the garganta, it was only open about five feet tall. Gnashing white fangs and horribly disjointed limbs protruded from the gate, struggling to escape into the warm realm filled with easy prey and delicious flesh. A shining outline of electric pink fire held the gate mostly closed, originating from a battered girl standing perfectly still, her spiritual power shining around her body in the shape of a fanged cat.

It only took a moment to see that Yachiru Kusajishi was holding back the entire army of Hollows singlehandedly…and that the effort required meant she could not move.

Hanatarō’s eyes scanned across the field, noting that three Soul Reapers from Squad Six were still fighting, distracting their enemy from Yachiru, but _where_ was the enemy?

Hanatarō sucked in a deep breath as his vision went entirely black, as if he’d been struck blind. It only lasted a moment, and then there were _two_ Soul Reapers below. He turned his head on instinct, trying to find the Arrancar Obliquerro, and his vision disappeared entirely once more.

“Don’t look at the enemy!” Hanatarō ordered through gritted teeth, his sweating palms clenched tight into fists. He turned his gaze to the ground, and he could see once more. “The smallest glance will blind you entirely, until he is no longer in range of your vision! All teams, split up and retrieve as many injured Soul Reapers from the battlefield as possible, and bring them to safety! Teams who previously brought the injured to Captain Unohana’s base camp should be rejoining us shortly.”

His medic teams flash stepped away, to save as many of the injured as possible without attracting the attention of Obliquerro. Except for his next in command, Hoshi Suzuki. She looked at him sidelong through the long bangs of her dark red hair. “We have our orders,” she reminded him, her normally brusque voice tight with fear. “The Arrancar can rip spiritual pressure out of Soul Reapers – the captains will be here soon. Lieutenant Kusajishi can take care of herself.”

Preliminary reports _had_ said Obliquerro could defeat enemies with a single touch.

But he hadn’t used his spiritual pressure stealing attack on Yachiru, or she wouldn’t be able to stay conscious, much less keep the garganta mostly closed through sheer power alone.

Implying…that the technique was only usable on those with less raw power than the average lieutenant. Or, a little voice said in the back of his mind, perhaps a _third seat_ …

As he watched, his vision blacked out once more, and then there was only one Soul Reaper standing between Yachiru Kusajishi and the Arrancar trying to destroy their world.

It took a long moment for Hanatarō Yamada to find the capability to speak at all through the horrible lump in his throat, and the dryness in his mouth. His tone was terribly quiet anyways, shaking with bone numbing fear. “See to the two Soul Reapers just defeated by Obliquerro,” the timid boy said, knowing that despite his cracked voice, _he_ was the officer in command. “They will no doubt be suffering from severe loss of spiritual pressure, in the least. I’m going to try to heal Yachiru’s wounds before Obliquerro defeats the final Soul Reaper. If she can just last _ten minutes_ …”

Ten minutes seemed like an awfully long time just then.

Hoshi nodded at his side, accepting his orders without question, disappearing in a flash.

Hanatarō Yamada swallowed, icy cold terror running freely through his veins, and flash stepped towards the largest garganta he’d ever seen in his life, and the beautiful girl standing beneath it in a corona of pink fire.

He was lucky – Obliquerro didn’t notice him, just like most people, and the third seat was able to get to Yachiru’s side in no time flat. “Lieutenant Kusajishi!” the bland boy gasped, the warm glow of healing already spilling from his fingertips. “Please, try to hold on!”

Yachiru’s dark magenta eyes snapped open. She blinked, clearly surprised to see _him_. “Scaredy cat!” she blurted out in recognition. Hanatarō winced, healing the shattered bone of her left arm. Blood hissed and dissolved under the light, as chips of bone made their way back under her muscles, and her broken flesh knitted back together under his expert touch. 

“I-It’s Hanatarō, actually,” he mumbled, keeping his gaze steadfastly on her arm while an infuriating blush spread warmth over his cheeks.

“Look out!” Yachiru shouted, shoving him to the side with her newly healed left arm, swinging her zanpakutō with her right to intercept a sweeping blade. Hanatarō skidded across the ground, automatically focusing on Yachiru-

He looked away hurriedly, restoring his vision, terror making his blood run cold. _Obliquerro_. The mysterious Arrancar, whose appearance was forever shrouded in mystery. The last member of Squad Six’s team lay gasping on the ground, his skin oddly shriveled from having his spiritual pressure ripped out.

“Don’t worry!” Yachiru shouted, her beautiful eyes closed tight, as she countered and parried her opponent’s blade by sound and instinct alone…though she couldn’t move. “If I die, I’ll force every last bit of my spiritual pressure into closing this garganta, for good! This spot is where the barrier between Hueco Mundo and the Soul Society is weakest – he can’t open such a huge garganta anywhere else. So he can’t kill me without ruining his plans forever!”

“True,” Obliquerro noted dispassionately, his voice oddly smooth and melodic for such a terrifying monster. His footsteps crunched on the shattered remains of a blade, as he stood just out of range of Yachiru’s sword. He seemed oddly relaxed, despite the carnage he’d wrought. “I’m surprised you were able to deduce such a thing. I certainly never explained that detail to you.”

“He’s been testing,” Yachiru explained, her cute nose scrunched up in distaste. “That’s why we’ve been running into large groups of Hollows lately – he’s been trying to find the weakest points between our worlds. But even though he wants to eat the souls of the captains to increase his own strength, he isn’t strong enough to fight them head on, even if he does work for a Vasto Lorde! This weakling planned to let an army of Hollows weaken the Thirteen Court Guard Squads first!” She sounded indignant, as though his cowardice and unwillingness to fight his own battles was somehow worse than trying to destroy the world.

“Right again,” Obliquerro said, with an undertone of menace. “But this isn’t for the benefit of Nochtis. By eating the massive spiritual pressure of dead captains, my strength will finally surpass Nochtis himself – and then _I_ would be the ruler of the Soul Society with a civilization of cattle for my consumption, _I_ would rank among the ten strongest in Hueco Mundo…and all that stands in my way…is _you_!”

Hanatarō could only stare with horror, as blindness struck him like a shroud and Yachiru shrieked with pain. Obliquerro backed away, and he could see Yachiru’s left leg was broken at an odd angle. She was breathing heavily, sweat glistening on her skin, but her spiritual pressure never stopped compressing the garganta.

“You see,” Obliquerro mused, as Yachiru shrieked again, her left arm rebreaking painfully with a sharp crack, “while I can’t _kill_ you, without risking your dying strength closing the garganta in this prime location for good…if you lose your concentration, even for a second, the gate will open fully. Do you know how many Hollows I’ve gathered for this attack? Hundreds of _thousands_. More will follow, drawn by the scent of carnage. Your society won’t have a prayer.”

Obliquerro caught her wrist in a painfully tight grasp, lifting her sword away. She shivered as his cold breath misted on her cheek as he leaned in close, though determination shone on her angelic face, her eyes shut tight. “When you _do_ lose concentration, I’ll kill you,” Obliquerro promised, empathizing his words with the crack of her snapping wrist. She gritted her teeth, her pink spiritual pressure flowing from her body undeterred. Obliquerro continued. “I’ve been planning this for decades, but in all that time, I haven’t eaten a Soul Reaper. You may be too strong for my abilities to rip out your power, but that won’t stop me from consuming your soul once you’ve died…”

Hanatarō threw his reed sandal in the direction of Obliquerro’s voice. He heard the smack of impact, as it struck the shrouded Arrancar’s head.

He struggled to stay on his feet as a terrible surge of frigid killing intent threatened to crush him where he stood. Hanatarō stood tall, his sword held tightly in front of him, too terrified to actually move, much less fight. “Back away from her,” he squeaked, his voice cracking three times.

How long had it been? The captains should be here soon…if he could only stall for five minutes!

“You foolhardy boy,” Obliquerro seethed pityingly.

Enormous force hit Hanatarō right in the stomach. Rational thought fled through the sharp pain, wind howling around his ears as he flew backwards from the blow. Hanatarō’s back slammed against a large boulder, cracking the surface. He coughed harshly, and the movement was the only thing which saved his life, as the shard of a shattered blade pierced the stone where his forehead had been.

“ _Scaredy cat!_ ”

He could barely think, every limb tingling with bone shattering pain. He raised his eyes to Yachiru, his vision blurry. Her beautiful eyes were tight with worry, the echoes of her shout bouncing off the cliffs.

And then he could see her no longer, as Obliquerro’s power blinded his gaze in an eternal shroud of midnight.

Hanatarō didn’t think, sprinting towards Yachiru with a cry. He threw himself forward blindly, hitting the Arrancar around the waist in a full body tackle. A contemptuous flick of his wrist was enough to send the weak boy flying once more, but Hanatarō stood, terrified and sure he was about to die.

Obliquerro sounded annoyed. “The others attacked me too,” he admitted, a deep baritone reverberating under his words, as if a beast were speaking simultaneously with his almost human mouth. The strange sound vanished with his next words, as the Arrancar regained control of his temper. “Knowing they would die, knowing they could not win, each one attacked me blindly, all to prevent me from destroying this girl. You humans…I’ll never understand you, truly.”

“Stay away from her!” Hanatarō howled, fury blazing in his eyes, slashing blindly towards the side when his eyes went dark. He missed, and Obliquerro’s hand closed around his throat, lifting him as if he weighed nothing at all. Hanatarō struggled, closing his eyes since he could not see anyways.

A strange, sucking sensation issued from Obliquerro’s hand, as if he controlled the vacuum of space. It _hurt_ , but Hanatarō’s spiritual power was just strong enough that Obliquerro could not simply rip it from his body! _Lucky him_? He gaped emptily like a fish out of water, his face turning purple.

“You’d die for this girl?”

He sounded genuinely curious. Hanatarō’s blade slashed forward, and the pressure around his neck disappeared as his enemy stepped back.

Fighting had never been Hanatarō’s strong suit.

His sweating hands and shaking knees were a testament to that. He wanted to run. He wanted to run _screaming_ , and never look back again. He wanted it more than anything else, but there was something more important than his own life…and more important than a pretty girl.

He would never take to the battlefield, except as a very last resort. But there was exactly one strategy even _he_ could use.

“Of course you don’t understand!” he retorted, grasping his blade tightly. “A monster like you could _never_ understand…the pride of a Soul Reaper!”

He rushed forward, hoping this wouldn’t hurt _quite_ as much as the training he’d done to master this technique with Captain Unohana…

Obliquerro didn’t pause, his blade stabbing a hole directly through Hanatarō’s stomach. The sword burst out his back, spraying blood like a fountain.

Hanatarō’s Kidō struck Obliquerro in the chest, shooting himself backwards, free of the blade, but he didn’t have time to heal. He raised his sword, some instinct warning him before Obliquerro’s blade struck his head. Steel clashed with steel, sparks hissing from the impact of the sharp edges. “She can’t die!” Hanatarō howled, his surge of emotion lending strength to his muscles, though he strained with the effort of holding back his enemy. “I could _never_ let her die!”

Crimson bloomed on his leg as a slash tore through fabric and muscle alike, and an instinctive flash step was the only thing which prevented the blade from cutting off his leg entirely, but he wasn’t done. “Because for all her dark reputation,” Hanatarō said, gritting his teeth through the pain, though tears stung at the corners of his eyes, blocking one blow and being cut by the next, “and for all her violence-!”

A backhanded slap hit his ribcage contemptuously, and bones broke. Hanatarō kept standing, fire burning in his soul, his desperate words continuing strong. “And despite…being the heir to the Kenpachi name!”

Obliquerro’s kick struck his wounded stomach, and the medic’s eyes blacked out momentarily for reasons _other_ than Obliquerro’s terrible power. It seemed the mysterious Arrancar had claws.

Pain lent his voice strength, and his next words were a howl. “ _Yachiru Kusajishi always brings her troops back alive_!”

He held his sword oddly, protecting his throat from a mortal blow he thought might be coming, but Obliquerro merely struck with his leg, and Hanatarō’s arm fell limply to his side.

It didn’t matter. “Yachiru is the _strength_ Squad Eleven relies on!” Hanatarō gasped, his voice thick with pain. Almost there. He was…almost-! “Kenpachi is strong, but he doesn’t look out for his troops like she does. Without her, we would have lost _so_ many more of our precious soldiers!”

He was barely standing. Hanatarō swayed dangerously, nearly falling over, and knew he was out of time.

How long had it been, since he’d started distracting the Arrancar?

A minute? An hour…?

How long until the captains arrived?

Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, and Hanatarō cast a last look at Yachiru. She was staring at him like she’d never seen him before, true fear and panic written into her beautiful face. Pink power flared and pulsed around her, as beautiful and deadly as the girl it belonged to, wreathing the horizon long garganta in flames. The corner of his mouth quirked up halfheartedly.

So this was it.

 _Sorry, captain_.

Hanatarō raised his sword with his one good hand, unable to open one of his eyes all the way. The darkness struck, and he knew his enemy was _right in front of him_ , and that this blow would be the last.

 _I know I promised…I wouldn’t use this technique_!

But what choice did he have?

Obliquerro dashed towards him with inhuman speed, intent on killing him and breaking Yachiru’s bones until her concentration wavered, leaving him free to unleash his army of Hollows on the world. Hanatarō raised his zanpakutō-

And turned the blade, piercing his _own_ stomach with all his power.

His rough cry of pain was completely involuntary, as he threw his head back with agony. “Fill,” he gasped, tears breaking free from the corners of his drab blue eyes, their clear tracks cutting through the blood spattering his cheek, “ _Hisagomaru_!”

Red light flared like a newborn sun from the gauge set in the blade of his sword. Crimson smoke poured from Hanatarō’s many wounds and streamed like water into the gauge, closing the slashes and healing bones in its wake, until his zanpakutō itself shone with scarlet.

The accumulated damage from his own wounds filled his blade with screaming power, and Hanatarō’s own desperate shout was just loud enough to be heard over the roar of spiritual strength. “ _Go!_ ” the Third Seat of Squad Four shouted, pointing the tip of his zanpakutō straight ahead into the darkness. The blade shrunk, gleaming silver as his shikai activated automatically, morphing into a gleaming scalpel. “ _Akeiro Hisagomaru!_ ” Hanatarō howled, unleashing all the power his blade possessed in a deadly scythe of purest white into the void where his vision should have been.

The darkness shattered, as if made of glass, revealing for a brief moment the stunned face of the horned Arrancar, as the gleaming white scythe struck his chest with an explosion of power, and tore _through_ the Arrancar’s ribcage. Obliquerro stared with void-like eyes, as if unable to fathom that the weak boy he’d faced was capable of inflicting real damage. He fell, the tattered edges of his white robe fluttering weakly in the wind, and didn’t get up again.

The healer stood, staring at his fallen opponent. “Medics like me are a dime a dozen,” he said quietly, his voice weak with pain, but even toned with resolve. “But Yachiru Kusajishi is _irreplaceable_.”

Hanatarō fell to his knees, breathing hard, his body convulsing with shuddering relief. He raised his shaking hand to his nose, and it came away red with blood. “You were right…captain,” he said softly, the ground seeming to sway beneath him. “Healing so much damage in one go…uses up too much of my body’s reserves…I shouldn’t…fight like this…but-!”

Thousands of Hollows howled in rage and frustration as one.

With Obliquerro’s defeat, the garganta shuddered, snapping closed, until the crack in reality was gone. Yachiru’s spiritual pressure hung in the air for a moment, dissipating all at once as the resistance of the garganta vanished. She swayed and fell with a groan, hitting the ground hard.

“Y-Yachiru!” Hanatarō called out, nearly collapsing as he took a shuddering step forward. He made it to her side, verdant light already gathering around his shaking hands. He poured warm energy into her wounds, though he barely had any to spare.

The damage was worse than he’d been expecting, but she’d never lost concentration, not even _once_. “You’re amazing,” he said honestly, wishing he didn’t look quite so beat up and lame. He was certain Ichigo would still look cool after such a tough battle, but Hanatarō probably resembled a bruised human potato.

Tears slipped down his cheeks, falling on her forehead like rain, and she stared at him with open shock. “I’m glad,” he explained, his voice cracking, his muscles going weak with fatigue as his adrenaline wore off. “You’re alive. I’m so glad. I’ll get you healed up in…no…time…”

His words died off. He fell to the side, the last of his power used up trying to heal Yachiru, unable to summon even the energy to break his fall.

His heartbeat echoed in his ears, and the last thing Hanatarō saw was the shadow of a fearsome man standing over them both, watching him with baleful eyes. And then, nothing.

~o~

Birds sang in an endless blue sky above the clinic of Squad Four. A pair of pretty medics chatted while they walked, their baskets of healing herbs filling the warm spring air with the bitter tang of medicine. Laughter echoed from down the street, and it seemed no one had any worries in the world.

Three days had passed since the battle against Obliquerro, and the Soul Society continued warmly on as always, as if the battle for their world had never occurred, and the next weren’t somewhere on the distant horizon. The people of the Soul Society had long learned to treat every day as a blessing, knowing shadows could strike at any time.

Yachiru paced, her cute lips pursed together worriedly. She let out a deep sigh. Her own wounds had long since healed, thanks to the incredible power wielded by Captain Unohana, but she stayed in front of the Squad Four clinic anyways. She brushed back her candy pink hair, lost in her own thoughts.

“Hey! Yachiru!” Rikichi called out, jogging up to her side with a bright smile, his own traumatic battle forgotten. He touched the hilt of his zanpakutō. “Do you wanna spar? I’d love to learn a thing or two from you!” the ashen haired boy said hopefully.

“No thanks,” Yachiru said, not looking away from the windows of the clinic. She sighed again, deeper this time.

Rin, the researcher, piped up from Rikichi’s side, a flush already on his cheeks. “I feel so terrible for sending you into that fight,” he confessed, looking at the ground. “I made some molten lava cakes, if you wanted to share them with me…”

Yachiru looked at him at last, her tone honest. “Sorry, but I’m not hungry right now,” the beautiful girl confessed. “Don’t feel bad either! It would’ve been a lot worse if the stealth squad had gone without me! He planned his move well – it took ages for the other lieutenants and captains to be available.” She pouted at the walls of the building, her attention turning away again. “I wonder when they’re gonna let Hanatarō out?” she wondered, her tone worried.

The two boys exchanged defeated looks. Neither of them had _ever_ heard Yachiru Kusajishi use someone’s real name, without some kind of honorific. They had lost.

Both boys froze with horrified surprise as Kenpachi Zaraki strode between them, not even sparing the two a single glance. And for the very first time, Kenpachi stepped onto the broad wooden porch encircling the Squad Four clinic of his own free will.

“Where’s the brat?” the fearsome man demanded, crossing his thick muscled arms, addressing the woman sitting calmly in his shadow.

Unohana smiled sweetly at the battle scarred Captain of Squad Eleven from her chair, her hands folded serenely in her lap. “I certainly hope you aren’t here to cause trouble with my patient,” the soft voiced healer said simply, the picture of calm. “He needs his rest.”

Kenpachi glared with annoyance at the smiling woman. “Is that so? If you plan to defend him maybe I’ll try to kill the boy after all. After all, it’s been decades since my first real fight.” The air crackled with Kenpachi’s surge of anticipation, and many of the bystanders decided they had better things to do, which were coincidentally in the opposite direction. The happy warbling of the birds cut out abruptly.

Captain Unohana was unfazed, her sweet smile never wavering. “Is that all you want in a woman?” she asked. “An eternal sparring partner?”

Kenpachi Zaraki stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t waste my time kicking an injured and pathetic little puppy,” he said at last, striding past her without a second glance. “…you have nothing to worry about.”

~o~

Hanatarō Yamada lay in bed for a long time after he first regained consciousness, his eyes tightly shut. His wounds were not terrible, thanks to the healing power of his zanpakutō, but the power drain from using so much of his energy was not so easily fixed. He’d slept for days, and still felt tired.

Still, he was alive. He should probably be grateful. Judging by the soft covers and the smell of sandalwood, he was back home, and out of danger.

Hanatarō opened his eyes finally, and saw Kenpachi Zaraki glaring at him silently from the chair next to his bed, and screamed so loud birds flew from the rooftops.

His extremely girly scream lasted a long time, and he flung the covers over his head, blocking Kenpachi from view. His heart thundered in his chest, but after the shock faded, he started to calm down just a little. Sure, Kenpachi was the single most terrifying being on the planet, but even _he_ wouldn’t cause trouble in the barracks, surely!

Hanatarō peered out from the cover, and sat up with a great effort, trying not to let his voice shake _too_ badly. “C-Captain!” he stammered, pretending his instinctive scream hadn’t happened. “What-what is it you want? Is something on your mind?”

Kenpachi glared at him for a long time, his craggy features so still they could have been carved from stone. Hanatarō’s heart rate started to accelerate as the silence dragged on. He tried to gulp, but his mouth was too dry. Kenpachi spoke, finally.

“I was just thinking how easy it would be to snap your tiny bones between two of my fingers,” the fearsome man said, no hint of remorse or humor in his deep baritone voice.

Hanatarō’s heart literally stopped with fear for a long moment, the blood draining from his face so quickly he looked like a ghost, no sound issuing from his gaping mouth.

Kenpachi continued, frustration coloring his tone, not moving an inch. “You’re pathetic,” he accused, his eyes as dark as flint. “A loser. Scum.”

Hanatarō could only stare, his blue eyes impossibly wide, as he sat frozen in fear, and Kenpachi Zaraki let out a long sigh.

“But when Yachiru was in trouble…you stepped up and _fought_ , even when other Soul Reapers ran in terror,” the captain admitted. He stood, and Hanatarō flinched at the movement, unable to even squeak through his fear. Kenpachi didn’t acknowledge his pathetic response.

He spoke at last. “In that last battle, you showed true strength. And if you can patch her up when the battle is over, you might have a tiny amount of use after all. Now…let’s test your resolve.”

Hanatarō couldn’t speak, but the voice in his head screamed incessantly as the captain’s words registered. He was sure he was about to die of sheer terror then and there at the very _thought_ of fighting Kenpachi Zaraki.

“Is there anything you want to ask me, scum?” Kenpachi said derisively, looking down at the terrified boy who looked near to passing out on spot.

Hanatarō looked up at the towering demon, his blue eyes impossibly huge.

It took a long moment to gather his courage, once he realized what the captain meant. His voice was nearly silent with terror, but he _spoke_. “W-would it be alright if I asked Yachiru-chan to dinner sometime?” Hanatarō managed, his heart so loud he was sure Kenpachi could hear it. “Just the two of us?” he added on hurriedly, remembering what happened to Tenzo.

Kenpachi stared at him silently, and turned to leave. “It isn’t up to me anymore,” he admitted, the floorboards creaking as he moved.

“Ask her yourself.”

~o~

 


	5. The Millennium Ball

**Disclaimer: I don’t own this fictional franchise, and I’ve definitely never tried to activate my Bankai. Not even once.**

~o~

Their first date was a dinner wreathed in the soft glow of lantern light, and both of them tried to ignore the obvious spying of their squad mates. Yachiru wore a kimono of pale violet silk which deepened to twilight blue towards the edges, embroidered with delicate tracings of silver mist, a gift from Captain Unohana she’d rarely gotten the opportunity to wear. Poor Hanatarō was at least _dressed_ smartly, thanks to the interference from the women he worked with, but he was so nervous and awkward he managed to spill his water _twice_ and bumble the pronunciation of his own name.

He was dejectedly sure Yachiru would never speak to him again, as he escorted her home in the fading dusk, but to his surprise, she was practically walking on air, her smile never fading for more than a moment. His confusion only grew. Was she just happy the date was _over_? “I-I’m sorry again for being so awkward tonight,” Hanatarō confessed, wishing his voice sounded more confident and manly. “And I’m grateful I got even one date with you, honestly!” he added on hurriedly, sure he was going to offend her somehow. “I just wish I hadn’t ruined everything.”

Yachiru stopped walking, looking up at him with a trace of confusion in her lovely magenta eyes. Her vanilla perfume mixed with the wafting scent of honeysuckles in the still night air. “You didn’t ruin anything, silly,” she scolded him, a hint of reproof in her honey sweet voice. “I had a lot of fun tonight! Did you see Ikkaku hiding behind that newspaper? I could see the glint of his bald head from all the way across the restaurant!” She laughed, delighted at the memory.

Hanatarō flushed faintly, looking away. “I’m glad you got some fun out of tonight,” he mumbled dejectedly. Her smile was because of her teammates. Of course. “I’ll just walk you home, and then you don’t have to see me again,” he said even lower, sure he would be reincarnated as a boring sea sponge in his next life, since it would match his personality and appeal.

Yachiru half skipped at his side, looking thoughtfully at the night sky. “You were pretty terrible,” she agreed, smiling wider at the memory. “I didn’t know someone could hiccup and sneeze at the same time. And you even hit your head on the back of the chair!”

Hanatarō slumped lower, his dejection complete. “But you know,” the pink haired girl continued, tapping her lip with one finger. “That was when I realized I wanted to go out with you again!”

Hanatarō looked up at her sidelong through his hair. “You wanted someone to laugh at more?” he guessed sadly.

“Nope!” Yachiru insisted, shaking her head emphatically. “Well…maybe a little,” she confessed, smiling again despite herself. “But the truth is, Re-chan told me I would know for sure a guy liked me by how nervous he was when we first went out together.”

Hanatarō blinked, straightening just a little. “Captain Unohana said that?”

Yachiru nodded happily. “About the time Ten-chan brought me to dinner, actually. He was pretty nervous too, but I think that was just because Kenny threatened to break any part of him that touched me.”

Hanatarō went as pale as snow. “I-I can see how that would make someone nervous!” he stuttered, wondering with horror if that rule applied to _him_ as well.

Oblivious to his terror, Yachiru peered at him sidelong, mischief dancing in her eyes. “And by that logic, you must like me a whole lot, since you were so awkward and nervous you almost died!” Hanatarō’s blush deepened to a shade which would make a tomato jealous. She beamed at him, her contentment with their date complete.

“Can I ask you a question?” Hanatarō asked, after they walked in silence for a time. Yachiru turned to him, her gaze questioning, and he avoided looking directly into her eyes so his brain would function properly. “Why’d you say yes? When I asked you to dinner, I mean.”

He’d thought it was an easy question, but Yachiru pursed her lips. “I’ll tell you another time,” she promised, and for a moment he saw something like wistful sadness flash in her beautiful eyes. “Thanks for walking me home.” He startled, realizing they had indeed made it all the way back to the Squad Eleven Barracks.

He stood awkwardly, panicking as he realized he had no idea what to do next. Was a hug too informal? But what if a kiss was too much? She’d said she wanted to see him again, but he could definitely still blow it!

He’d just decided on a firm handshake when Yachiru leaned up on her tiptoes, kissing his cheek in farewell. His thoughts went silent all at once, like wind extinguishing a candle, and he stared in shock, struck mute.

Yachiru opened the door, turning back to look at him over her shoulder. “Oh, and Hanatarō? Next time, _I_ choose what we do for our date! Bring as much confetti as you can find, okay?”

She laughed, leaving Hanatarō staring numbly at the door, his hand touching the warmth on his cheek, with a ridiculous smile on his lips.

Little did he know they would both almost die on their next date.

Of course, since _Yachiru_ was choosing their ‘fun’ activity, it really shouldn’t have surprised him when they ended up blasting Byakuya Kuchiki with confetti and streamers during his evening tea ceremony, courtesy of hidden tunnels Yachiru had been constructing beneath the captain’s house for decades.

While they ran from the irate captain, and his personal home security force, their route to the escape tunnel was cut off unexpectedly. Hanatarō had saved the day, by leading Yachiru into the sanitation tunnels beneath the Soul Society. They’d disappeared right out from under the noses of their pursuers like ghosts – and as a high ranking officer of the medical squad, Hanatarō knew every twist and turn in the tunnels.

The moment it sunk in that they’d gotten away, Hanatarō had laughed, really truly laughed, actual tears forming in the corners of his eyes at the memory of the cool and composed Byakuya being blasted with a confetti cannon mid sip of his chai tea. Yachiru laughed right along with him, the high of the adrenaline rush and near escape from death making the prank all the funnier.

Yachiru had launched into a strategy for a new prank system utilizing Hanatarō’s knowledge of the secret sanitation tunnels, using her hands to describe her ideas, and he just watched as her face lit up with excitement and childish joy.

It was only much later that he realized he’d been so preoccupied by the danger and fun of their date that he hadn’t been a nervous wreck. This prompted a mini panic attack, since Yachiru had mentioned she liked his nervousness from their first date, and only Isane was able to calm him down. _“Just be yourself!”_ the lieutenant scolded him, shaking her finger. _“Don’t overthink it too much. Yachiru-chan said yes to another date, so the pressure is off. Just have fun!”_

He’d been nervous _anyways_ , but a sudden uprising of Hollows cancelled their plans two days later. A few deft alterations in scheduling courtesy of Captain Unohana coincidentally put Hanatarō on support duty for Yachiru’s squad.

They had their first fight during the mission, though the objective was completed without issue. Hanatarō had foolishly mentioned Squad Eleven’s notoriously bad Kidō skills, which had always been a sore subject between their two squads, and Yachiru’s hot defense of her beloved squad was quick and fierce. Kidō wasn’t as useful as pure battle skill after all! They’d parted ways when the mission was complete to cool down.

Yachiru pouted and grumbled to herself for the better part of the afternoon after their fight, and showed up unexpectedly in the courtyard to ask Hanatarō for a small lesson in healing Kidō, something she’d never expressed an interest in before. He’d smiled and agreed with relief, having been on the verge of apologizing to her as well for belittling the skill of Squad Eleven.

Despite their relationship progressing smoothly, there were many who didn’t quite understand how such a thing had happened…

“It doesn’t make _sense,_ ” Ikkaku Madarame griped, staring with frustrated confusion at the couple across the courtyard, as if they were some kind of fever dream sprouting from eating bad cheese before bed. “Those two have nothing in common, except for being overly feminine! What do they even _talk_ about?”

“I-It does seem a little odd,” Isane agreed, her smile and rigid posture seeming forced. “After all, Hanatarō is such a sweet boy, and Yachiru is…well, that is to say…” She _wanted_ to say ‘a self-centered and immature monster who worshipped Kenpachi Zaraki, the veritable god of violence’, but it seemed rude to say out loud.

The curious group of bystanders watched Hanatarō explain a simple technique from his guide scroll. Yachiru concentrated on her hands, and sparks of healing energy shot out unexpectedly. She laughed with pleasure while Hanatarō praised her progress.

“It’s completely _absurd_ ,” Ikkaku muttered, trying and failing to reconcile what he saw. “They’ll never last.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain, Third Seat Madarame.”

The group flinched horribly as one, as Captain Unohana spoke from directly behind them. None of them had heard her arrive. She smiled faintly, looking with approval at the new couple. “Couples who seem different on the outside are often unexpectedly well matched. Light complements shadow, colors mix and blend, life flirts with death. Those two complement each other well. Can’t you see it?”

Isane and Ikkaku stared across the courtyard again with concentration. The seconds ticked by in silence, and Captain Unohana sighed.

“Perhaps I should be clearer. It is certainly true that Hanatarō lacks ambition and drive, but Yachiru is already supporting him to better himself, by encouraging him to take the captain level certification course for medical Kidō. And Yachiru may be a little self-centered and childish…but look! She is learning healing Kidō for the first time, so Hanatarō thinks well of her, a decision which will undoubtedly benefit her squad members in the future.”

“I-I guess I can see a _little_ of where you’re coming from, Captain Unohana,” Isane agreed, though the tall young woman still seemed skeptical.

“Ten thousand kan says Yachiru kills him within a month,” Ikkaku declared, his wide smile suggesting the thought wasn’t entirely displeasing to him.

Yumichika spoke up from the first time, though he almost appeared to be sleeping, leaning deliberately against the wall with his eyes closed. “Personally, I support their relationship,” he declared, seeming bored. “Lieutenant Kusajishi hasn’t been paying as much attention to us lately, which can only be a good thing.”

Captain Unohana’s soft smile never wavered, as she watched Yachiru and Hanatarō talk and laugh without a care in the world. “Soul Reapers can live for an endlessly long time,” she murmured, the knowledge of a thousand summers whispering through her words. “Things stay the same for decades, sometimes. But look. Don’t they look like they’re having fun?” Yachiru laughed with delighted surprise, empathizing her point, as the rabbit she’d been practicing on hopped into her lap, his sprained foot healed. She held up the white bunny, dubbing him ‘Sir Fluffbottom’.

“Perhaps they won’t last,” Unohana said, her serenity untarnished. “But these experiences will become precious memories, untarnished by the flow of the years. How could such smiles not carry value?” Her voice rose, carrying easily across the courtyard to Hanatarō and Yachiru. “Isn’t that right, Captain Zaraki?”

Hanatarō had been about to touch Yachiru’s arm, but he snatched his hands back at her words. “Kenny!” Yachiru burst out, skipping across the courtyard happily. “Look! I healed this rabbit!” She held out Sir Fluffbottom for his inspection.

Kenpachi eyed the fluffy white bunny with annoyance, which only grew when the cute creature did not react to his presence, besides twitching his pink nose. He grunted once, his eyes dragging up to look at Hanatarō, who froze with fear.

“Oh, Captain Zaraki,” Unohana cut in smoothly, before the fearsome man could speak. “I’m afraid I have another mission for you from Head Captain Yamamoto. It’s terribly urgent – you’ll need to leave right away.”

“I just got back,” Kenpachi growled irritably, snatching the folder Unohana held towards him. “The old man is working me to the bone lately! And it’s never anything worth my time…”

“It can’t be helped. Your expertise is required.”

Kenpachi grunted with annoyance. He glared at Hanatarō with the scorching wrath of the devil, his spiritual pressure crushing the air between them. “I’ll be back in five minutes,” the murderous man declared, his tone dead serious.

“B-But captain, that’s physically impossible!” Hanatarō stammered, cowering beneath the spiritual onslaught.

“Watch me, scum,” Kenpachi retorted, turning away deliberately.

Yachiru beamed as Kenpachi disappeared. “You didn’t even pass out!” she praised him affectionately, patting his head as if he were Sir Fluffbottom. “That’s really impressive! I’ve seen Kenny make a grown man sob like a baby with that same glare! Good for you!”

“T-Thanks,” Hanatarō mumbled, seeming abashed at the dubious praise.

“Wasn’t there something you’ve been meaning to ask Lieutenant Kusajishi, Hanatarō?” Isane cut in, with a hint of suggestion.

Red bloomed on Hanatarō’s cheeks. “Yeah! Um,” he mumbled, twiddling his fingers together nervously, as Yachiru looked up at him through her side swept pink bangs curiously. “Yachiru Kusajishi,” Hanatarō managed, his face bright red. “Would you like to…go to the Millennium Ball with me?”

“Of course!” Yachiru exclaimed happily, positively glowing. “If you hadn’t asked me after all this, I would have kidnapped you and dragged you there anyways!”

“That’s so funny,” Hanatarō said good naturedly, sighing with relief…oblivious to how dead serious the pretty girl had been. “I would have asked you sooner, but my dancing skills were really rusty, and I didn’t want to embarrass you…I’ve been practicing ballroom dance with one of the grannies in my squad this past week,” he admitted, touching the back of his head self-consciously as he looked down.

Ikkaku and Yumichika blanched at this confession, dying inwardly. “Don’t admit that, you fool!” Ikkaku complained. “That’s so lame!”

Yachiru pouted, and they were _sure_ Hanatarō had just blown it. “I just wish you’d practiced with _me_ ,” Yachiru admitted, petting her new rabbit absentmindedly. “I like spending time with you.”

“Hey, Ikkaku, how did _that_ work?” Yumichika wondered out loud, as if their conversation couldn’t be heard by everyone there.

“Who can fathom the inner workings of the female mind?” Ikkaku sighed in response.

Yachiru pursed her lips, seeming to come to a decision. “Hey, Hanatarō? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Meet me on top of Sōkyoku Hill tonight, okay?”

~o~

Hanatarō didn’t know what he’d expected, but a picnic was _not_ it.

“Hey!” Yachiru called out happily, adjusting the edge of the cute blanket set near the cliff overlooking the Soul Society. Pink candles flickered warmly in the still night, set around a midnight snack for two arranged on the plush blanket. “I’m glad you could make it. I’m just about set up, alright?”

“What is all this?” Hanatarō asked, confused but not displeased. He walked forward, his doleful blue eyes wide. A wicker picnic basket sat near the blanket, lined with a cheery polka dot trim. There was even a little bouquet of bellflowers and yarrow in a tiny blue vase, the two flowers representing their squads.

“Kenny found me putting together supplies, and insisted on joining us,” Yachiru said obliviously, and her date flinched horribly. “But I gave him the wrong location, with such confusing directions he won’t find out it was a trick for at least twenty four hours, haha!”

“Oh,” Hanatarō breathed, trying not to sound _too_ relieved. He smiled faintly, twirling the ends of his shoulder length hair between his fingers. No one had ever done something so _nice_ for him before. “This is all so nice,” he said lamely, wishing he was better with words. Yachiru smiled, seeming to understand, and invited him to sit.

They shared stories while they snacked, since Yachiru’s ‘meal’ was ninety percent junk food, chatting about nothing in particular and everything at all. After the cupcakes and eclairs lay forgotten, and the moon had risen high over the Soul Society, bathing the traditional roof tops in a wash of silver, Yachiru fell silent, staring at the star dusted sky with a wistful expression. “You know,” she admitted finally, kicking her legs fearlessly as she sat on the very brink of the cliff, “I called you up here for another reason. Truth is, I have a bit of a confession.”

“Oh?” Hanatarō asked. He wondered what could bring such a serious response out of Yachiru Kusajishi. “What is it?”

She was silent for a long time, as if weighing her words carefully, making him wait. “I don’t really know you very well,” the beautiful young woman confessed, all trace of joking gone from her sweet tone. “You’ve always been around, unnoticeable but _there_. And I looked past you all these years, because you weren’t as flamboyant or energetic as most of the people in this crazy world. But what you said, against that Arrancar, made me think about things I’ve never considered before.”

“Yachiru,” Hanatarō started, uncertainly, but she shook her head.

“Let me finish, okay?” Yachiru asked, her faint smile sending his heart stuttering. He shut his mouth, a little worried. Yachiru looked back up at the sky, and her words came a little easier, as though she were addressing the moon. “You fought until you nearly died, all because I always bring my troops back alive. And those words? They _shamed_ me, to my very core. I don’t think about bringing people back alive, not ever. I was just doing my job, you know? So, I felt like I didn’t deserve your sacrifice. I was selfish, really. I _am_ selfish.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hanatarō protested, stung by her deprecation. He rose to her defense instinctively. “Even if you didn’t think about it, the lives you’ve saved still have value!”

Yachiru shook her head again, not disagreeing with his words, but brushing them off all the same. “I was angry at first,” she continued, still looking at the dark expanse of sky with fierce longing. “But little by little, I accepted the flaws I noticed in myself, and I really started to think about what it means to be a lieutenant. I realized I want to become a better leader. And I saw _you_ in a different light. You may not be strong in battle, but the strength of your convictions was the real deal. You care about saving lives. That’s something I could work on. So I decided, maybe I’d learn to be a little more like you.”

She paused, pursing her lips as she thought. “That’s why I decided to learn medical Kidō, even though no one in Squad Eleven bothers with anything but physical combat. If it were anyone but me, Kenny would have beaten them senseless…but with my example, maybe my squad will change, little by little. We’ll always be a combat squad first, but it wouldn’t hurt if a few of us knew how to put bones back together too, you know? Like Captain Unohana, we can be strong and useful! Plus, if we have a few healers, we can hold even more sparring matches, haha!” Hanatarō blanched at that, picturing without difficulty the bloodthirsty soldiers learning to heal just so they could prolong their battles and beat each other up more often.

“And maybe,” Yachiru finished, her deep magenta eyes turning indescribably soft as she looked over at his face. “ _Our_ squads will get along better as well. I’d really like that.”

“ _Me too_ ,” Hanatarō agreed, with a little more fervor than necessary. He would love it if he never had his head shoved in a toilet again. Yachiru laughed at him, her voice pealing like a bell, guessing the direction of his thoughts. Hanatarō grinned, not bothered by her fun at his expense. “I meant what I said in that battle,” Hanatarō said. “And as for not noticing me before, that’s just fine. No one notices me, really. I’m kind of pathetic, and I’m a coward to boot, not to mention I’m awful in battles,” he babbled, unable to stop his honest assessment of himself.

“That’s what I thought, too!” Yachiru said with a laugh. “But you know? I think you’re more than that, now. You may be weird, and a scaredy cat, but you’re strong in other ways…and you really brought out something new in me. I haven’t changed like that in a long time. I want to feel that way more often. So that’s why, I’d really like to get to know you better. If that’s alright with you?”

“I-I have no objections, as long as it’s still alright with you, of course!” Hanatarō stuttered, caught off guard by the warmth in the beautiful eyes of the princess of the combat squad. He was abruptly aware of how close they were sitting, and how the tips of their fingers brushed together on the ground, sending tingles of electricity all the way up his arm. “I didn’t really do anything special, I don’t think, since I was just being honest! And I’d be happy to keep teaching you medical Kidō, no matter what!” He swallowed, fighting back his nervousness with a visible effort, calming himself. “ _Um_. But maybe…if it was alright with you…could you teach me some fighting techniques?”

Yachiru’s eyes lit up with surprise, and the pleased curve of her lips could only be described as predatory. Hanatarō blushed bright red, looking away to compose his thoughts, but his mouth couldn’t seem to stop babbling onwards. “I mean, I _could_ just fight by getting horribly beat up and using my zanpakutō to heal, but I’d rather not resort to that every time, and even _I_ might need to take part in a real battle again someday!”

“Sure,” Yachiru agreed, drawing out the word with a wicked smirk. “But I won’t go easy on you! You might end up getting hurt from my training, since real life combat is the only way to improve!”

A surge of relief went through his chest when she said ‘yes’. Hanatarō smiled crookedly at her in response. His next words were calmer, as his heart slowed its frantic pace. “And I’ll walk you through healing my wounds, after all is said and done.”

Yachiru beamed at him. She lifted her soda pop in the air. “We’ll keep improving, together!” she suggested, as though it were the start of a grand adventure. Hanatarō lifted his drink as well, and they clinked the glass bottles together, sealing the promise with bubbly pink soda.

Somewhere, far below them, came the unmistakable sound of Kenpachi smashing through a wall with a snarl of annoyance. Hanatarō flinched horribly, but Yachiru caught his hand, stilling his reaction. She moved closer, leaning against his chest comfortably, her warm fingers intertwining with his own.

After a while, the sounds of Kenpachi’s search faded, and he was able to calm down as well. Hanatarō wondered how he had gotten so lucky, holding her close as Yachiru was lulled into warm relaxation by the gentle beating of his heart. The warrior princess and the meek medic boy sat on the edge of Sōkyoku Hill until sunrise, simply enjoying each other’s presence without needing to say a single word.

~o~

In the long history of the Soul Society, there had been only two other Millennium Balls – the first, held when the uneasy alliances of the noble families and the warrior divisions were fresh and new, and the second held after a successful thousand years of the flourishing Thirteen Court Guard Squads. A thousand years later, the third ball was held to celebrate the long history of their culture, and to welcome the next millennia of structure and peace with a bang.

The lavish decorations were created using the skills of thousands of Soul Reapers, creating a glittering dream-like world set on the broad expanse of Sōkyoku Hill, overlooking the entire Soul Society. Crystal columns glittered in the faint pastel shine of hundreds of floating bubbles of Kidō light, shifting between the colors of the rainbow, encircling a huge dance floor. Silvery blue vines of ivy curled around and between the tops of the crystal columns, trailing long indigo tendrils to the ground far below covered in tiny, shining flowers of starlight. There was no roof, leaving the dance floor open to the vast expanse of sky above. Hell Butterflies flitted lazily through the air, and alighted on the vines, fanning their midnight wings dappled with violet.

Hanatarō lifted his hand, touching one of the glowing bubbles curiously. The elastic surface was warm to the touch, warping inwards slightly with the pressure of his hand. It floated away at his soft push, changing color from pale blue to soft candy pink as it rose sedately into the sky. “Hanatarō!” Yachiru called out, pulling his attention away from the beautiful oddity. He turned.

His lovely date waved as she skipped to his side, graceful even in the voluminous rose satin folds of her princess style ball gown. She wore her silken pink hair in a soft bun winking with elegant silver gems, curling tendrils framing her cutely flushing face. A scarlet hair pin shaped like three hearts adorned the side of her head.

“Look!” she beamed, holding out her white gloved hand. A pink lotus made entirely of sugar rested on her palm, fragile and delicious, and _almost_ too pretty to eat.

“Aren’t you full by now?” Hanatarō asked with bemusement, tugging absently at the dark fabric of his simple cut suit, an outfit he wasn’t accustomed to wearing. “No one can try all the food at this party – it just isn’t possible!”

“We’ll _see_ about that!” Yachiru declared, narrowing her sultry magenta eyes competitively. She snapped off a glittering lotus petal, inserting it into Hanatarō’s mouth to cut off his protest, filling it with an explosion of strawberry flavor. “Let’s go dance!” the adorable lieutenant suggested before he could speak. She pulled the unprotesting medic to the dance floor with a skip in her step, radiating happiness as another lively song filled the twilight air.

Couples danced and twirled in a swirl of flashing colors and whispering silk on the vast, obsidian dancefloor. Musical type zanpakutō users provided the songs for the evening, playing everything from rousing dancing ballads to relaxed sonatas, haunting in their sweet beauty. Though most were traditional instruments, ranging from long flutes to mandolins, they played with gusto, and the occasional electric twang, managing to perform even the occasional fast paced rock and roll sets better suited to modern instruments with believable aplomb.

Yachiru’s sweet laughter carried above the music as she twirled with her surprisingly skilled date, while more than a few men stared jealously. She either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, her blissful attention on Hanatarō alone.

“I was wondering,” Hanatarō began, as they whirled across the dance floor together. “Why do you use my name? I’ve never seen you do that for anyone else.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Yachiru asked, laughing when he dipped her low to the ground.

“It’s _not_ obvious,” Hanatarō insisted dryly, sweeping the lithe girl back into his arms, grateful he’d learned a few moves before the dance.

She leaned in close, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. “If I called you by a nickname, _Hana-chan_ ,” she teased, as though enjoying a joke, “people would think I was dating a woman.”

Hanatarō blushed bright red with embarrassment, missing his next step. “I-I hadn’t considered that,” he muttered self-consciously. “Not that it doesn’t make sense! I guess there aren’t a lot of masculine nicknames for Hanatarō, huh?”

Yachiru only smiled in response.

Truth be told, it had been a very conscious choice. Ever since she was little, she’d used nicknames to keep people at arm’s length, mentally separating ‘her’ from ‘them’. Though she had plenty of superficial interactions, she’d never formed a real friendship, never even _wanted_ an equal relationship with her fellow Soul Reapers, hotly believing that Kenny was the only person she would ever need in her life. His nickname was the only one she used purely out of affection.

But her decision to grow, and become a better person and a leader, had been a significant one – and she was determined to give it her all. And so ‘Hana-chan’ was ‘Hanatarō’ instead, a deliberate decision to help her mind see him as an ‘equal person’, instead of an amusing minion.

But their relationship was still new, and so Yachiru kept her true reasons to herself, laughing as she twirled back into Hanatarō’s arms after he’d whirled her outwards. “The grannies in your squad taught you well,” she teased him, reclining deliberately into his chest for a moment, enjoying his easy blush with wicked amusement.

A heavy shoulder hit Hanatarō’s back deliberately, making him stumble and fall. “Sorry,” a clearly jealous man grumbled, pushing past without further apology.

“Hey!” Yachiru shouted, fury sparking in her magenta eyes, but the man was gone quickly, disappearing into the tide of dancers. Hanatarō’s gasp of pain caught her attention, and she turned to him, kneeling by his side worriedly. “Are you okay?” she demanded, her forehead pinched with worry. “I’ll beat that guy up, for sure!”

“No, no,” Hanatarō protested feebly, sitting up. “It’s nothing. I just twisted my ankle. I’ll heal it in no time.”

Yachiru pursed her lips, clearly debating finding the man who shoved him for some violent revenge, apparently deciding Hanatarō was more important at the moment. She picked him up with surprising strength, flash-stepping them both to the edges of the dancefloor, setting him down carefully. “ _I’ll_ heal you,” she announced peevishly, pushing her hands above his ankle without hesitation.

“Y-Yachiru, it’s great that you’re practicing, but I’m not sure you’re ready to operate on people!” Hanatarō protested with a squeak, but warm green energy was already sinking into his leg as Yachiru scrunched up her forehead in concentration.

Hanatarō blinked. He rotated his ankle, the pain melted away without a trace. “There, see?” Yachiru all but purred, pleased with herself beyond reason. “I healed you, and you didn’t even die!”

“I guess I didn’t,” Hanatarō noted, sighing inwardly with relief, although the Kidō level had been fairly minor.

The song wound down, ending in a flourish of sound and fading slowly. Yachiru stood, helping him to his feet. “I’ll get us drinks, okay?”

“Sure,” Hanatarō said gratefully, feeling parched. Yachiru had wanted to dance every song so far, taking breaks only to steal bits of food from the lavish banquet set just outside the crystal columns. He enjoyed his brief break, as she bounded away towards the beverage stations, taking a deep breath.

He was smiling again. Honestly, he couldn’t seem to _stop_ smiling, wondering how his drab life had turned into world of waking dreams. Yachiru had always scared him a bit, just by being the lieutenant of the fearsome combat squad, despite her good looks. He’d never imagined he would get to know her as a person, or how much he would like spending time with her. It seemed even more unbelievable that she would share his feelings, and like who _he_ was.

He looked around surreptitiously to make sure no one was watching, and pinched himself, squeezing his eyes closed. But nothing changed when he opened his eyes once more, and he smiled faintly, breathing in the sweet air, faintly perfumed by the tiny white flowers, their vines waving in the whispering breeze.

“Enjoying yourself, brat?”

Hanatarō let out a shocked, girly scream, as Kenpachi Zaraki’s voice sounded directly being him. He turned, his eyes huge with terror, looking up and _up_ at the fearsome Captain of Squad Eleven, in all his battle scarred glory. Ikkaku and Yumichika flanked him, the former carrying his sword carelessly over one shoulder. “I think he’s going to pass out,” Yumichika noted, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Captain, why don’t you grimace more? It might kill him outright.”

Hanatarō gulped, trying to control his shaking knees. “Relax,” Kenpachi snapped, scowling ferociously at the shorter boy. “I’m not here to kill you. I’d never hear the end of it from Yachiru. I came to talk, plain and simple.”

Hanatarō made a visible effort to control himself, wondering how Yachiru could stand being so close to such a crushing spiritual presence. “W-What did you want to talk about?” he stammered, daring to hope that maybe Kenpachi would say he _approved_ of their relationship, maybe…

“I don’t like you,” Kenpachi deadpanned, crossing his arms. His deep set eyes never seemed to blink as he glared at Hanatarō, who was trying his hardest not to cower. Kenpachi sighed with aggravation, shooting a glance at Captain Unohana across the dance floor. “ _But_ ,” he stressed, “Yachiru can beat down enemies and take names…so maybe her partner won’t have to. And if you can heal her wounds after the battles are finished, you aren’t completely worthless. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Hanatarō stared with obvious surprise, relaxing just a little. For all his terrifying qualities, they had one thing in common. They both cared about Yachiru. “Thank you,” Hanatarō said honestly, managing not to stutter. His next words were completely sincere, straight from his heart. “I promise you, I’ll _never_ hurt her.”

Kenpachi snorted, Ikkaku and Yumichika choking back laughter at his sides. “What’s so funny?” Hanatarō wondered, tilting his head with confusion, but they only laughed louder, as though he’d made a hilarious joke.

“You think _you_ …could hurt _her_?” Ikkaku repeated, giggling in quite the undignified fashion. “ _You_?” He clutched his sides, fighting to breathe, his uninhibited laughter drawing stares from those nearby.

“It’s just too _funny_ ,” Yumichika gasped out through his mirth, laughing between every breath. “I can’t handle it! Hahahahaha, as if a pathetic teddy bear like _you_ could hurt our lieutenant?!”

“Hey guys, what’s so funny?” Yachiru wondered, skipping back to Hanatarō’s side with two drinks held in her gloved hands, tilting her head adorably.

“The brat told us he would never hurt you,” Kenpachi informed her with a savagely amused grin, and Yachiru laughed, her voice pealing like a bell.

“Oh, Hanatarō, you’re so _funny_ ,” she giggled, right along with her squad mates. She handed him his drink so she could claim his other arm. “Come on, the next dance is starting soon, and I want to dance near the cliff! Let’s go!” She pulled him away, finishing her drink quickly to free her hands for dancing.

They danced as the twilight deepened the sky to azure, and the first day of the ball drew to a close. When the music wound down, finally ringing the last, plaintive note over the dancefloor, they stayed in each other’s arms, swaying in place on the edges of the floor long after the other dancers slowed to a stop, Yachiru’s lovely eyes closed as she leaned into Hanatarō’s chest.

The crack and whistle of fireworks sounded behind them, as brilliant explosions of color lit up the night sky over the Soul Society. The beautiful night was almost over, the Millennium Ball drawing to a perfect close.

Yachiru leaned back to look him in the eyes, a satisfied smile curving her lips, her contentment with the dance complete.

Pushing his fears firmly aside, Hanatarō caught the back of her head and _kissed_ her, his lips warm and urgent against her soft mouth. She stiffened with surprise at first, and relaxed liquidly into his arms with a pleased sound, tilting her head upwards to deepen the kiss…

They broke apart hurriedly as dancers screamed with terror, bolting to the sides as Kenpachi’s fury rolled over the dancefloor in a literal wave of spiritual power. Demonic power surged around him in the shape of a grinning golden skull as he bolted forward, plowing straight through tables and chairs, death reflecting in his terrible eyes.

“Let’s go!” Yachiru said, catching the terrified boys hand with a blissful smile on her face. They flash-stepped away, just in time for Hanatarō to avoid Kenpachi’ slashing blade, reappearing some distance away on the edge of the long stretch of stairs. Yachiru flashed them away again, and again, reappearing only for brief moments, until they were running through the Soul Society below, her laughter pealing over the sounds of Kenpachi’s pursuit ever further behind them.

“He really tried to kill me!” Hanatarō gasped, his comprehension sinking in slowly.

Yachiru beamed back at him, without a care in the world. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” she promised warmly. “I had a lot of fun tonight! So just follow me – I’ll _never_ lead you in the wrong direction!”

Hanatarō blushed at the sentiment, the danger of Kenpachi’s pursuit fading with the memory of their kiss. Yachiru turned abruptly, pulling him along in three flash steps so quick they took his breath away. They stopped briefly behind a darkened wall. “That was really brave!” the princess of the combat squad gushed, seeming honestly impressed. “You really could have died! I think you’ve earned a reward!”

And she kissed him without abandon, banishing all his terrified thoughts in a whirl of vanilla perfume and the soft caress of her lips. She tasted like pink sugar, and he gasped for air when they finally broke apart. Yachiru’s eyes were indescribably soft as she looked up at him, with just a hint of a possessive gleam in their magenta depths.

“I-I think I love you,” Hanatarō gasped, staring at her with giddy shock.

“That’s nice, but if we don’t run, Kenny is gonna murder you,” Yachiru reminded him matter-of-factly. She took his hand once more, though she didn’t really need to, and they ran together, as Kenpachi swore and crushed walls behind them, lost in the maze of the Soul Society. “I’m sure he’ll calm down eventually! Maybe by the next Millennium Ball! In a thousand years!” Yachiru joked, although Hanatarō didn’t find it _quite_ so funny.

Yachiru Kusajishi smiled exultantly, Hanatarō’s hand held warmly in her own. She was sure they would be happy together, if Kenpachi didn’t murder her new boyfriend!

Fifty fifty odds! She laughed out loud, content with the world, as they ran together through the warm night, hand in hand.

~o~

**Author’s Note: Thank you for reading, everyone! I had a lot of fun writing this one, even if it isn’t quite my normal genre. Remember to leave me a quick comment if you liked this little story! Thanks again, and have a wonderful day! :D**

**~Little Miss Firebright**


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